Housemates
by Guerrilla Warfare
Summary: I, Beca, was a normal, hardworking girl. I lived with my Gramma since I was small. We may have had financial problems, but we were happy. I saw no reason in changing the way we lived. My Gramma, however, that was a different story... BeChloe AU! No college, Scottish Chloe, and funny old ladies! It's a party!
1. Ch 1

**A/R: Haha, hello, there! To all you Twifans, I'm sorry this isn't Neph. I know it's been five months since I updated that, but, I really have no excuse. I'll leave that for the angry PMs, however, and get on with this.**

**I have to say, I was bored. I don't know what I'm doing here, but this is definitely AU. Beca is still a coolio music lover, but not in exactly the same way as she used to be. It'll get there, though.**

**I don't know if I'm going to continue this, but I've set it up for a second chapter. It's just 3,743 words, definitely not as long as I'm used to writing, but it just seemed to stop there. Maybe I should've stopped earlier, but, I dunno.**

**Review, favorite, follow, or whatever. Tell me if I should continue this, 'cause I dunno. I'm not sure.**

**Disclaimer: Though my name IS Bekah, I sadly don't own the character, or anything associated with her. Or YouTube. Or anything even slightly publicly recognizable. These are troubling times in the kingdom.**

**Housemates Ch.1**

I was six when my mother died. It wasn't too tragic of an occurrence since I hadn't seen her since I was two. I didn't even remember her. She had decided a bit late that she couldn't be a mother while in college, and so she left me with my grandmother. It wasn't the best decision to leave me in another state and never visit if she had ever planned on being in my life later on, but Gramma never held much respect for her daughter and told me so on many occasions. Though, she would tell me that I should always respect her for the simple fact that she had given me life, it didn't mean I had to love her. And I didn't. How could I love a stranger?

I was ten when my father died. It was much the same as when my mother did, since I didn't even know I had a father until Gramma had told me that someone found his body dead in a ditch somewhere. It turned out it wasn't foul play and he was just gone with alcohol poisoning. Gramma told me he was sick with grief when he heard my mother had died and had drunk himself to death. Apparently he had wanted to know me, but my mother wouldn't let him because he was a dead beat with no job and an alcohol addiction. He loved her too much to push, and he wasn't even aware when I was moved across the country to live with my grandmother. I felt a little regret at his passing, though. I think I always would. At least he had wanted me.

I grew up normally. Well, as normal as a retired old lady could give me. I was in school until the first grade, when I had to be pulled out because my grandmother couldn't afford it when taxes turned around. She didn't like public schools anyway and felt I would do much better being homeschooled, so that happened. She was right, I did excel faster, but for the first year I missed the other kids. I would try to go play with them outside, but they would make fun of me for being homeschooled, so I got over that pretty quickly.

I never was one for socializing after that. I mean, sure, I could talk to someone perfectly well if they started the conversation, but I would never go up to someone and just start talking to them. That wasn't how I rolled. It just felt awkward, you know? I mean, what kind of person walks up to a perfect stranger and starts up a conversation? A rude one, I'll tell you that.

I was scared of a lot as a child. I couldn't stand big dogs or lizards, I was afraid of the dark and scared of reading (I thought I was going to get a paper cut and was going to bleed out until I was a husk), just to name a few, and don't even get me started on cats. I'm still wary of them. I swear, they're aliens… anyway, getting back on topic. I was scared of a lot as a child. It was intense and I would end up crying a whole lot and wouldn't stop until my Gramma would sing me a song and rock me, petting my head. It got so bad that my Gramma couldn't stand it any longer and sat me down and we had a talk.

"Beca, I'm sorry, but this is getting out of hand." she said to me, kneeling in front of my seven year old self, her wrinkly hands on my shoulders. "You need to stop being so scared of everything."

"But, Gramma," I whined, my eyes tearing up as my mind was brought back to whatever scary thing I had just been subjected to outside. "It's gonna get me!"

"Sweetie, it's not gonna get you. It's not scary, I swear." she kissed me on the forehead, but I just wiped it off and shook my head vehemently, my own kiddie logic excelling over her oldie logic.

"Yes, it is!" I rubbed my eyes and sniffled, snot running down my nose. I'm not proud of that moment. "It's gonna get me and you'll be left here all alone, and then it's gonna get you, too!"

"Aww, sweetheart, is that what you're afraid of?" my Gramma asked, hugging me to her. I nodded mutely, tears rolling down my face as I wiped them away as fast as I could. I wasn't proud of that moment then, either. She smiled and pulled away so she could look into my eyes. "Then if you don't want it to get me, then you're going to have to beat it."

"…Beat it?" I was confused, and my tears momentarily stopped as I tried to think this over.

"Yes, you're going to have to defeat whatever you think is going to hurt you – or me!" she smiled wider. "You can be my own little hero. Would you like that? To be my hero?"

I nodded vehemently, my eyes red rimmed and eager.

"Can I be a superhero?" I asked loudly, my fears suddenly forgotten. Children can be so simple at times.

"Yes, you can, sweetie. You can be my own little batgirl."

And thus was the origin on my Gramma's nickname for me for the rest of my natural life. From that day onward, I would face every one of my fears until it didn't scare me anymore. I learned that lizards weren't so bad if you didn't startle them, books wouldn't suck me dry like a vampire, and dogs were just big ol' softies if you could be patient and slow with them. To help with the dark and my general fear of monsters, my Gramma put me in kung fu. I stuck with that for as long as possible before we couldn't afford it anymore, which was around the time I turned fourteen.

Seven years of drills and getting up early in the morning instilled a fondness for exercise in me, however, and I would often get up at six in the morning to go running and practice some forms before collapsing on the living room couch and falling asleep (who would let all that great self-defense training go to waste by disuse?). I never let myself get out of shape, and didn't particularly care for greasy foods, so I was relatively healthy. Though, I did enjoy indulging my massive sweet tooth every once in a while.

About the same time I was forced to quit my martial art, I took up a job on a paper route. I got it done quickly and was able to make a lot more money than the average person because of how fast I could go on a bike.

However, we were quickly running out of money, my Gramma's retirement fund not having been intended for two people. I had to quit my job on the paper route only a year in because my bike got trashed when a car ran a stop sign while I was walking it across a cross walk. Needless to say, it hit me and I was in the hospital for three months with a concussion, two broken arms, three fractured ribs, and a bunch of cuts and bruises. Oh, and I landed on a pile of trash with a mirror leaning against the trash can. Luckily, the glass missed my spine and didn't go deep enough to puncture anything important, but they had to do surgery to get it all out. I have this wicked scar down my back now, but I would feel uncomfortable showing it to anyone, so I can't even enjoy it.

After recuperating, I was sixteen and strapped for cash. My Gramma wasn't physically able to do the sort of work that would keep us afloat on her own, and had to go out of retirement to work at a convenience store. I got a job as soon as I was able and helped out as much as I could. Together, we managed.

Two months into that, and I realized that I would need another job. Me having been homeschooled and graduated from High school at the age of 14 (my Gramma was a teacher in her younger days, as she'd say), I was already working as much as I could, legally, and the other half was upkeep on the house. The only days I had off were the weekends, and those days I would spend with my Gramma just hanging around or accompanying her to her frequent doctor visits.

I was walking home one day when I noticed that the path I would usually take was blocked off for construction. Not one for daring moves, I took an alternate route which took me by the local park, and noticed a meeting going on. Now, I'm not one for snooping, but there were three adults in the entire group and the rest were kids my age or younger. Odd, am I right? So, not helping but being a little curious, I slowed down and listened in, my interest being piqued immediately when I heard the word "money".

I stuck around long enough to listen to the rest of the meeting, which, get this, was about refereeing soccer. Like, blowing whistles and telling little kids what to do. And you got paid for that? Sign me up. I stayed until everyone left except for the adults and I approached them, curious. I asked them about it and they gave me a web address to go to for more information, a rule book, and the head guy's email address so I could contact him if I ever wanted to be scheduled.

Needless to say, I got on that right away.

After four months of doing that I was rolling in dough. Being my age and having my smarts along with my level of fitness, and I was moved up in the ranks quickly. I got as high as I could, being the lowest grade ref, and would level up as fast as possible. I learned that when you got to a certain rank, you got paid for just showing up, so you could believe that was where I was aiming, though I couldn't do it at my age.

I was bringing home a bunch more extra money, catching an average of ten games a day (at different fields, since they wouldn't give me more than four if they could help it, no matter how I argued that I was young and fit and could take it) at thirty dollars a game and up. I was working only on the weekends, however, still having to work my normal day-to-day job.

It was through that sport that I met probably my only friend. His name was Jesse and he was a defender on a team I had reffed. I had called a foul on him that ended up getting him ejected from the game and kicked out of the complex when he had challenged. After the game, he approached me in the parking lot, probably to just complain about the call and give me a hard time, but I, being an ex martial artist and all, punched him in the nose. After that, he wouldn't leave me alone, and we eventually grew close. He would hang around me, keeping me company between my games and I would cheer him on when I wasn't reffing his games. Sometimes, he would come over at the end of the day and we would relax and play board games or something, but only on the weekends. The weekdays were off-limits because as soon as I was eighteen I would be working full time and would fall asleep as soon as I got home.

The soccer season only lasted for Spring and Fall, however, so I wouldn't have much in between. I would work tournaments as much as I could in the summer, but my Gramma would restrict me, saying I was going to kill myself in the heat. She really didn't like me working as much as I did normally, but she couldn't argue that we needed the money, so she reluctantly let me go.

Sometimes, my Gramma would refuse to take the money I earned on weekends, saying I needed some for myself. She told me to go buy something fancy, that kids my age should be resplendent in gadgets and doo dads. I would reluctantly keep the money, but instead of spending it, I would put it in the bank to collect dust and hopefully earn interest.

My Gramma and I were walking around Mainstreet one weekend since I hadn't been able to nab any games and she wanted to get out of the house, when we passed a tattoo parlor. I was immediately interested and stopped to look in the window and watch as someone was getting a tattoo on their wrist. It was a pretty redhead that was just a bit older than me and dressed like someone from out of the country. When she was finished and they were applying the bandages, she looked up and we met eyes. Curiously, I felt like blushing, but my face went stone straight and lost all emotion. The smile she had been wearing when she looked up had faltered, and I immediately started walking the opposite way we had come, leaving behind the tattoo parlor and all previous thoughts of possibly getting one, one day.

A month later, and my Gramma surprised me with a book of tattoos. I can say I was honestly moved and I _might_ have cried a little, but I'm not confirming anything. She and I went out and got one the next weekend I was free and I couldn't have been happier. I got a grasshopper on my right arm, slightly higher than my wrist. It was kind of a special pick for me, because bugs were the first things I had become unafraid of. Grasshoppers specifically. They were so big and they jumped really high and frightened me to no end. Eventually I ended up liking them, but it was a big step for me. It represented courage to me and reminded me that no matter what, I would face my fears. I hugged my Gramma for ten minutes straight afterwards.

I got more tattoos as time went on (though none in an area I couldn't cover up if need be), each one of them meaning something to me, though I won't get into specifics. The piercings naturally followed the tattoos, and, luckily, my Gramma loved them (she said they were "bad girl personified" whatever that means). Jesse accompanied me every time after the first one, and even got a small one (he said it was a snake, but it was obviously a worm) on his bicep. He cried. Needless to say, I laughed. There was a time, though, after I got my second one, that I watched a street performer playing a keyboard on the side of the road and selling CDs. It was amazing. I'd never seen someone play an instrument before for lack of interest in the topic, but the emotion on his face and the clarity in his voice was amazing. It moved me and I wasn't the same afterwards.

All my time after that was spent listening to music and keeping an eye out for deals on musical instruments that I could get cheap. Jesse gave me my first guitar, and I gave him his first hug from me. He would bring me music and books on learning, but the books never really worked for me. The money that my Gramma forced me to keep came in handy here, and what I hadn't used for tattoos, I used to buy instruments. My free time was spent watching YouTube and teaching myself to play while Jesse watched on my bed and made suggestions. Apparently his uncle had taught him some stuff when he was ten, and I can say I was glad for his input. I can't say I was any good, but I wasn't horrible. I taught myself all the chords on a guitar, the beats to a drum, and the keys on a piano. I had to make do with a paper piano, though, because I could never find the perfect one, but I settled. It was enough right then.

My entire life had been spent working and caring for my Gramma, from seven years old to nineteen, and I hadn't intended on stopping any time soon.

Everything was disrupted however, with a bang.

Literally.

* * *

I was sitting alone in my room (Jesse had been busy, and the season had ended last weekend, so I was free to enjoy me time) at my seventy billion year old computer, in the middle of watching a video of a guy do a solo on his bass guitar and trying to commit the chords to memory when my Gramma knocked on the door.

"Come in!" I called, pausing the video and taking my head phones off of my ears and sliding them down to my neck. Out of all my electronics, my headphones and my iPod were the only things that were even relatively new. I spun around in my used swivel chair and looked at her expectantly.

"Beca, I have some news." she said, smiling. I hesitated, not liking the way she phrased that statement, but ultimately I had to ask what it was. The suspense was killing me. (Not really, but I was curious, and she looked like she wanted me to ask.)

"What… _kind_ of news?" I asked, taking my headphones off of my neck and setting them down on my desk.

"Oh… news, news." she said vaguely, her hands vaguely circling in vague circles. She smiled at me and I narrowed my eyes.

"What did you do, Gramma?" I asked, my voice suspicious.

"Oh, my little Batgirl, it's nothing to worry about." she said, entering my room fully and plopping down on my bed. "Just a little change in our lives that will let the workload off our shoulders a bit. It'll be great, I guarantee!"

"Gramma…" I warned. I knew she only called me Batgirl when I was being unbearably sweet or she had done something wrong. I don't remember being sweet, so obviously she was being bad. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Oh, you know my friend from work, Bernie?" she asked, her eyes avoiding mine entirely.

"The foreign lady?" I asked, my eyebrow quirked. "The one from Scotland? What about her?"

"Well, her house blew up-"

"What!?" I shouted, leaping to my feet, my chair flying backwards and knocking my bag of gummy worms off my desk and to the floor. "Is she okay!? Is her house okay!? Oh, God, is she dead!? Does her family know!? What do we-"

"Beca!" my Gramma interrupted me in the middle of my freak out, laughing a little at my hysteria. "She's fine! She was out when it happened. Gas leak or something. Her house is completely blown to bits, burned down and everything. She just needs a place to stay!"

"Oh," I said, my entire body relaxing as the panic leaked out of my system. "That's good. Great." I sat down on my bed and glanced up at my Gramma. "You sure she's okay?"

"Oh, my little Batgirl, always worrying about others," my Gramma said, the warmest smile in the world on her face. "Of course she's fine. I just wanted to let you know that she'll be moving in with us."

"Well," I said, letting out a relieved breath and rubbing the back of my neck, suddenly tired. "That's fine, I guess." we may not have been doing too well on money, but the house had been in the family for generations so it was no slouch. We could definitely fit another person in. I looked back at my Gramma. "She's still working, right?"

"Yes, dear, and she'll be paying rent, too. I tried to argue against it, but she wouldn't have it. I gave her a decreased rate, though." she winked at me and I smiled. I loved my Gramma.

"I guess that's fine. So when's she moving in?"

"Actually-"

My Gramma was cut off by the ringing of a doorbell. I looked up at her, incredulous, as she got up and scooted quickly out of the room, going to answer the door. I stared after her for a few seconds, stunned, before sighing in exasperation and getting up to go after her.

When I got to the living room I could see my Gramma standing at the doorway with two people carrying bags and talking animatedly with her. I was about to walk up and greet them when I stopped. Wait – _two_ people? I looked confusedly at the lady being hidden slightly by Bernie – though she was obviously taller than the older woman – and when the lady moved forward to set her luggage down, I got a good look at the second visitor.

She was tall, freckled, and had curly auburn locks trailing down past her shoulders. Did I mention she was absolutely gorgeous? I didn't? Well, she was. She sensed someone looking at her and glanced my way and I swear she had the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen, much brighter than my dark navy. My face went completely emotionless in my own odd version of a blush and her eyes flashed in recognition. I mentally scrunched my eyebrows as my outer appearance stayed uninterested. She did seem familiar, but who was she?

"And, I know you've met my granddaughter, Beca," my Gramma said, motioning towards me, breaking me and the redhead from our silent staring contest. I was totally winning, by the way.

"Of course, Joyce, she's a dear." Bernie said, smiling at me. "Though I don't believe my niece has."

"Oh, of course," my Gramma said, her smile brightening. "Beca, this is Chloe, Chloe, Beca. Chloe will be staying with us, as well, until she moves back to Scotland."

The redhead – Chloe – moved forward and took my hand, shaking it firmly, her eyes alight with mischief.

"Hello," she said, her accent is light like her aunt's, probably from spending years in different countries, but still recognizable. "I believe I know you."

**A/R: Hey, so, how'd you like it? Feel free to tell me in whatever way you like. Suggest things you want to see, or things you think I should change. Critique my writing, but, please make it constructively critistic.**

**Also, keep in mind, that just because you suggest something, doesn't mean it'll happen, whether it's a change to be made in the chapter, story as a whole, or something you'd like to see. I will read every suggestion and critique and take them into consideration. I will also be sure to give credit where credit is due if I DO end up making changes or using ideas. I IS FAIR.**

**Review, favorite, follow, go to sleep because you have to work in the morning, or just go enjoy a good old book.**

**-Peace, G.C.**


	2. Ch 2

**A/R: *sobs***

**I can't believe this! How is it possible so many people like this!? It wasn't even a day and already forty billion reviews and quadruple that in alerts! I'm overwhelmed! I know many people may not think ten is a lot, but to me it is. I'm serious when I saw I am humbled by the awe-inspiring power of a person to read something horrible and find it good. It's amazing.**

**Anyway, I don't know how I feel about this chapter. Usually I write a chapter, look over it once, and ship it, but this time I didn't. It just feels off to me and so it took me a while to work up the courage to post it. And, no, I'm not being demeaning since I put the first one up yesterday, it just took me LONGER, that's all.**

**Also: Two chapters in as many days!? What's going on!? The power of shorter chapters. Everyone bow down. Don't get used to it, though.**

**This one is 3,690 words. I'm hoping to keep it around there for all the rest, too, but don't be disappointed if it's different.**

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, (well, unless my plans pan out) own anything publicly recognizable.**

**Housemates Ch.2**

"Hello," she said, her accent is light like her aunt's, probably from spending years in different countries, but still recognizable. "I believe I know you."

I stared at her for an extended period of time, her smile never wavering. I was confused. I thought I knew her, too, but I wasn't going to say that. I looked down at our hands, which were still clasped in a hand shake, and squirmed mine uncomfortably. Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked down, letting go of my hand and looking back up sheepishly as I flexed mine. She had a strong grip.

"I don't think I know you," I said straight faced. I was an amazing liar; the only one being able to tell was my Gramma. I could never lie to her so I got nervous. Much like I was getting now with Chloe's eyes studying me like I was a display in a window that was holding something incredibly desirable. It was off putting.

I cleared my throat and shifted, looking away from her eyes. I saw my Gramma watching us with amused interest, and Bernie just standing next to her doing the same. Shouldn't they be doing something productive? Like _not_ making me more uncomfortable than I already am? I looked back up at Chloe and saw that she was smiling much the same, but with a little bit of triumph.

"No, I _do_ know you." she said, taking a step closer, causing me to take a step back. She frowned a little, but kept going anyway. "See?" she brought up her wrist to show me a tattoo of a ladybug, nearly sticking the thing in my face.

I can't say her tactics weren't effective, though, because my eyes _did_ flash in my own recognition. She was the lady at the tattoo parlor when I had first stopped to look in the window. It was amazing that she recognized me after, what, three years? Two? I tried to hide the fact immediately after its occurrence, but I don't think I was successful seeing as her smile returned full force.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said, looking to the side and moving past her. "We should really get your stuff in." and so, as I successfully changed the subject and ignored a highly amused grin from my Gramma, I picked up Bernie's bags that they had set on the ground and turned to the owner of said bags. "You can follow me and pick your room, if you want. Otherwise, I'll pick for you."

Bernie just smiled at me, her eyes looking from me to Chloe and back before waving her hand dismissively.

"Don't worry, dear," she said. "I'll stay here and talk with your grandmother; I'll be okay with whatever you pick."

I hesitated a little before my eyes flashed back to Chloe, who was staring at me intensely, if a little confused. I raised an eyebrow at her, breaking her concentration. She looked at me, more confused, obviously not having been paying attention to what we were talking about before.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Do you want to choose your room, or not?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, yes, please!" she said excitedly. She picked up her bags and followed me down the hall and up the stairs.

I showed her my Gramma's room before setting Bernie's stuff on the bed of the room next to it before showing her, her choices. She had two: one across the hall from my Gramma's and Bernie's, and one across from mine on the other side of the house.

"Whose room is this?" she asked, putting her hand on the doorknob and turning.

"No, wait-!" I leapt forward to try and stop her from entering, but I was too late and she had already opened the door. Disregarding my obvious feelings about her being in my room, she stepped through the door and went in anyway.

It wasn't that my room was dirty, though it couldn't be called spotless, it was just that it was _my_ space. I didn't like people in _my_ space, hence the word _my_. It was where I could relax when things were getting too overwhelming with my jobs, or if Jesse had been being an extra butt that day and I just wanted him to leave me alone. He knew that he should never enter my room without permission, especially since it had been a year before I had let him near it.

Anyway, Chloe looked around curiously, a small smile on her face. I wasn't sure what was so interesting, seeing as how it was just my bed, my desk with my ancient computer on it, my chair, which was still on the floor covered in sour gummy worms, and my instruments all piled in the corner. All of them were used, old, and not in the best possible shape, but were the best I could afford. I had an acoustic and electric guitar, a bass, a small drum set, and even an electric violin. (Someone had been throwing it away (the spoiled kid had given up on learning, saying violin was "too girly") and I caught it before the trash men threw it in the garbage. I asked the owners if I could keep it and the mother had consented with an exasperated, "At least _someone's_ getting a use out of it.").

"This is your room, am I right?" she asked, walking over to the desk and putting her hand on it. She was about to pick up my headphones, which were still connected to the computer, but stopped short as a strangled cry left my throat involuntarily. She looked at me oddly before dropping her hand and sitting on the bed.

I cleared my throat and nodded to her earlier question, not sure if I could talk without freaking out that someone was in my room – on my _bed_ – when I barely knew them, but she didn't seem to mind. She looked around with a new interest, smiling when her eyes landed on the candy adorning the floor, before they were drawn to the instruments.

"Do you play all these?" she asked, her eyes wide in admiration. I nodded mutely at her and she got up. She was about to walk over and pick up the acoustic, but stopped short when I surged forward and grabbed her shoulder.

"Please, do-" I tried to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat when I realized how close I was to her and how pretty she was when she was concerned. Needless to say, she looked at me concernedly, as my face schooled itself, my cheeks turning only a slight red that normally wouldn't be visible because I tended to stand at a more reasonable distance to people, but since we were so close, there was no doubt she could see it.

I dropped my hand from her shoulder and turned around immediately, coughing to clear my throat. Then, in the most passively casual voice I could muster, which was the epitome of passively casual, I changed the subject.

"Let's go pick out your room." I said, walking to the door and holding it open for her. "Don't want to keep everyone waiting."

She looked at me warily for a few seconds, probably worried I was going to burst into a fit or something (God, I'm horrible at this people thing), before I rolled my eyes and gestured impatiently with my hand for her to go first. She slowly walked out, thanking me for holding the door open, to which I nodded politely, her eyes never leaving my face. When she finally left the room, I followed her and closed the door, making sure it clicked before leaving it behind.

Chloe ended up choosing the room closest to mine (surprise, surprise, just my luck, too) and we headed downstairs soon after.

* * *

Not long after they got settled down and began to unpack what was left of their belongings, I called Jesse and ordered him to come over right away, no buts. Luckily, he was able to ditch whatever it was that he had been doing and I heard him making his way through the door not ten minutes later. Or, so I thought.

"Jesse!" I called, barreling down the stairs to meet him. "You'll never guess what happened… who's that?"

Standing beside my best friend (simply called because he was my _only_ friend), out of breath and sweating, was another boy our age with a dorky looking face and slightly damp curly brown hair who was just a bit taller than Jesse's 5'10", and by extension, tons taller than my own 5'0". He smiled apologetically at me and I nodded to him before turning my beseeching gaze unto the entity beside him. The one that was looking at me with both concern and reluctance.

"Sorry about this, Beca, but he kind of had to come along." he said, referring to his friend next to him. "He's new to the state and I promised him I would hang out with him today and show him around town, but since you needed me, we booked it over here from my house."

"That explains a bit…" I mumbled, looking back at Benji to see that he had finally calmed his breathing down. He didn't look like the type to run, and Jesse had obviously run here (though he wasn't too out of breath). It was probably the same as a light stroll to him. I felt bad for the kid. Jesse was a very physical person, so he would be in for a lot.

"Hi, my name's Benjamin Applebaum, Benji, for short." he said, stepping forward with his hand out in greeting.

I looked down at his hand, sticking out there all awkwardly as I left it in the air. He started to look uncomfortable and was about to retract his offer of a handshake, when I took pity on him and grabbed it, shivering on the inside in disgust at the clamminess. I don't like touching people, but I'm not rude. This moment was when I realized that I hadn't particularly minded shaking Chloe's hand. It was odd, but luckily, Benji dropped mine after a reasonable two shakes and I subtly wiped my hand on my pants.

"Beca Mitchell." I replied, causing him to smile in amusement. I quirked my eyebrow at him and turned my gaze to Jesse who was pretending to cough as well as blushing slightly. I looked back to Benji who had been glancing at him teasingly before turning back to me.

"So _you're_ the famous _Beca Mitchell_," he said, his voice over the top. "I've heard _so_ much about you from _this_ guy, here." he stuck his thumb at Jesse who looked at him incredulously. I followed Benji's gaze and looked at Jesse in appreciation, finally getting the term, "deer in headlights". "_Mostly_ about how you're _amazing_ and _awesome_ and the most _wonderful_- ow!"

Jesse had elbowed him in the ribs, no doubt causing a bruise. My eyes had widened considerably as Benji spoke and I was speechless. No way. Jesse really thought that? Well, that could cause trouble. I decided to play it off as joke and speak to him about it later. Way later. Hopefully never.

"Ah, did he tell you about the time I broke his nose?" I asked, crossing my arms and smirking. I peeked at Jesse out of the corner of my eye, but keeping my focus on Benji. I was relieved when I saw Jesse relax instantly, no doubt thinking I had assumed Benji was joking. I hoped he was, but I had a feeling that wasn't the case.

"No, he hasn't," Benji perked up at the mention of his new friend's brutal maiming and glanced at him, his teasing smile still in place. "Please, do tell!"

Before I could get any of the story of how we met out, Jesse stepped in between us, flailing his arms about to get our attention and making loud noises to cover up anything I could have said. I snickered and Benji laughed outright. It was then I decided that I liked this guy and we could definitely be friends if he was willing to stick it out.

"Hey, Beca!" Jesse said loudly, his voice falsely cheery, using the tactful change of subject maneuver in a most skillful display of aptitude. "Why don't you tell us why you called me over here! I think that's a swell idea, don't you!"

"Swell, indeed." I said, rolling my eyes. I looked behind me, making sure no one was there, before beckoning them to follow as I moved to the living room couch.

We all sat down (me on the couch, the other two on chairs) and the atmosphere turned serious. Benji looked worried and Jesse's face was as serious as mine. He knew something was going down.

"Jesse," I said after a while, my elbows on my knees and my hands fisted to each other and resting on my mouth. "I need your help. My Gramma's friend's house blew up-"

"What!? Are they-"

"They're okay." I assured him, slightly irked that he'd interrupted me. I had done so right afterwards, so I let it go. Revenge solves everything. "It's not that. You see, my Gramma invited her to stay with us long term."

"Well, that's fine, right?" he said, confused. "I mean, I don't see anything wrong with it. Your house is huge."

"Yeah, I know. Normally I'd be okay with it, but she didn't come alone!" I was starting to get a little worked up thinking about Chloe. I didn't know why, but she made me nervous. Jesse looked at me, about to ask who came, but I cut him off by standing up and pacing around.

"She brought her niece with her, Jesse." I said, wringing my hands together. "Her redheaded, blue-eyed, tall, Scottish niece! Her _intrusive_ redheaded, blue-eyed, tall, Scottish niece!" I stopped and looked at him. "She went into my room and shook my hand and almost touched my stuff, and, and-"

"Whoa, Beca, slow down," Jesse said, standing up and putting his hands on my shoulders. "So far I don't see anything too wrong. Just tell her she has to stay out of your room, or something. It'll be fine. Besides," he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked playfully. "She sounds hot."

"Jesse!" I scoffed and hit his arm, causing him to laugh and wrap his own arm around my shoulder and pull me into a headlock, giving me a noogie. I was small, though, and easily pulled out, kicking him in the butt and pushing him back into the chair he had been sitting in previously. Benji laughed at our display and I smiled, effectively cheered up.

Suddenly, all the laughing ceased. I slowly trailed off and looked at them quizzically as Benji's and Jesse's mouths slowly opened in shocked O's. I was about to ask what was going on when someone spoke behind me.

"What's going on, here?"

I froze as the soft lilt of Chloe's voice met my ears, giving me shivers. I slowly turned around, glaring at Jesse for his obvious lack of decency (after, of course, giving Benji a sympathetic look as he averted his eyes, a blush on his cheeks from having stared). When our eyes met, there was a few seconds where my heart sped up in what I thought (hoped) was fear before Benji cleared his throat and broke the moment.

"Beca, aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" Chloe asked politely, looking interestedly at them. No doubt she was wondering what kind of weirdoes would willingly spend time with another weirdo like me.

"Ah, uhm-" for some reason I couldn't find the words I wanted to say. I challenged my brain, asking it what it was thinking being a numbskull at a time like this, but all it said was, "Ah, uhm…"

"I'm Jesse Swanson!" Jesse jumped up from his chair and nearly tackled Chloe as he grabbed her hand, shaking it vigorously. "It is _very_ nice to meet you!" he winked. Can you believe it, that bastard winked!

"Likewise," Chloe said, winking herself and smiling flirtatiously. My jaw dropped immediately. She was flirting back? She was _way_ too old for him! What is the world coming to?

I glared at Jesse, drilling holes into the side of his head, until he glanced over to me and visibly flinched when he met my eyes. Chloe, ever the curious one, looked over to see what that was about, but I schooled my features into a disinterested façade, looking off somewhere past them.

Jesse, wanting to get out of my crosshairs, let go of her hand and took a step back. Clearing his throat, he moved aside so Chloe could see Benji, who had stood up and waved shyly.

"And this esteemed gentlemen is Mister Benjamin Applebaum," Jesse said, doing a twirly with his hand and bowing ostentatiously. Chloe giggled and curtsied to Benji, who bowed awkwardly, his entire face a tomato.

"How do you do, Benjamin?" Chloe greeted fancily in the middle of her curtsy. "My name is Chloe Beale."

"Ah-uh, how-how do you do?" Benji stuck his hand out awkwardly, stumbling over his words. He was sweating profusely, but this time because he was nervous. I couldn't blame him, Chloe was stunning, I would admit. Anyone would act like that in the presence of a pretty lady.

She giggled and shook his hand, letting it go after a respectable two shakes. Odd, I thought she was one of those people who held on for uncomfortable amounts of time.

"So, what _were_ you guys up to?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning to the side some. "Whatever it was, it sounded like fun."

"Ah, well, Jesse was just helping me with something, that's all." I said quickly. Didn't want any bozos around here accidentally letting loose secrets that were _meant_ to be kept. I glanced at Jesse.

"Oh, what with? Maybe I could help, too?" she looked at me with a helpful smile on her face and I did that blushy thing again. This time it didn't seem to faze her, however. I think she may have figured me out.

"Oh, it was actually about- ow! What was that for?!"

Needless to say, that was Jesse, and I punched him in the shoulder.

Chloe looked at me, her eyes widening incredulously before she smiled when she realized we were just playing. Or, at least, she _thought_ we were just playing. I was seriously threatening his wellbeing, there. He knew and decided to keep his trap shut, so I left him alone. For now.

"Uhm, guys," Benji squeaked. He cleared his throat (probably to rid himself of the high pitched sound his nerves had induced) a few times before continuing in a soft, still slightly nervous, voice. "Jesse kind of offered to show me around town, today, and… well, I promised my mom I would be back by six thirty for dinner and it's already four…"

"Oh, that's right! I forgot!" Jesse said, smacking himself in the forehead. "Sorry, dude! I just got a little caught up. Forgive me?"

"It's alright," Benji said, his nerves fading at his new friend's sincerity. "Though we should probably get moving."

"Great idea," I said, stepping once backwards and making shooing motions with my hands. "You should leave, and I should stay here. I got some stuff to do, anyway."

"Ah, no you don't," Jesse said, grabbing my arm as I turned and pulling me back. "We're out of time for walking and your Grandma's the only one with a car. We need ya, Becs."

"Don't call me that…" I grumbled, pulling my arm away from him and glaring. He ignored this, however, and just smiled triumphantly at me. "Anyway," I continued. "Gramma's not here. If you'd have bothered to be paying attention when you got here, you'd have noticed that there are no cars in the driveway."

Jesse scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Of _course_ there's a car in the driveway!" he said, his voice affronted. "I saw it on my way in!"

"You idiot, there's no car there!" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes. "I saw her leave twenty minutes before you even _got_ here! I know there's no car there!"

"Yes, there is!"

"No, there's not!"

"_Yes_, there _is_!"

"_No_, there's _not_!"

"Is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is-"

"Guys!" Chloe shouted, stepping between Jesse and me and putting a hand on each of our chests, pushing us away.

I immediately forgot what I was doing previously as my mind filled with the fact that Chloe was touching me again, and I went stony faced, my cheeks heating up. She, however, took no notice and continued on as if she wasn't touching _me_, a hormonal _teenager_, very close to a _sensitive_ area. I backed up quickly as she went on.

"The car's mine!" she shook her head exasperatedly. "There's no need to fight like children! Just get all the facts!"

"She started it…" Jesse mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets and digging his toe into the floor. I simply crossed my arms and ignored his presence.

"So, Chloe," Benji asked, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Would you mind if we borrowed your car?"

Chloe immediately perked up at his query and bounced on the spot in excitement.

"Sure! I'll drive!" and with that, she danced away to, assumedly, go get her keys.

"You know, Beca," Jesse said after a short silence where we all watched her, wondering how she could be so happy not even a second after scolding us. I quirked my eye at him and he looked at me seriously. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, wondering what he could possibly be about to say when he opened his mouth and, with a wriggle of his eyebrows, asked me to punch him again. "I was right, she _is_ hot. Especially when she's angry."

I complied.

**A/R: And here we are, at the end. Please, I beseech you, tell me what you thought. I really think there's something wrong with this chapter, and I would like to fix it.**

**As always, I'll take any critiques and suggestions into consideration. All is welcomed. Please, and thank you.**

**-Peace, G.C.**


	3. Ch 3

**A/R: Hello, people! ****It is I, the amazing Guerrilla Warfare, and I am better than Pewdiepie. Just sayin'.**

**Here, we have the third chapter. Shorter chapters may be easier to write, but that does not excuse writer's block and real life from slacking on their jobs. They need to work or they'll be fired. They have families. They CAN'T be fired. I, graciously, might I add, decided to help them out. They immediately glommed on me and the rest is yesterday. And Wednesday. It happens.**

**Please, enjoy!**

**Discalimer: What are you talking about? I do TO (not) own anything publicly recognizable! *scoffs* You guys don't know anything!**

**Housemates Ch.3**

We drove around town for as long as we could, Jesse and Benji were seated in the back while Chloe and I were up front. Her car was medium sized, but spacious, so it wasn't too bad. The radio was on, but I brought my iPod and headphones to try and keep conversation to a minimum. My iPod was dead, however, so I could still hear what they were talking about, even if it was muffled.

"Aaaaand, that's the library." Jesse said, flopping back into his seat. He had been leaning forward, resting on the back of Chloe's seat with his arm extended to point ahead of us. He was unbuckled and had been moving around the back seat the entire car ride, but no matter how many times Benji asked him to put his seatbelt on, he refused. That was the main reason why he wasn't allowed to even think about driving my Gramma's car. She just knew he'd kill himself.

"And that's all we have time for, folks!" Chloe said, startling me a little. I managed to hide it since I was staring out the passenger side window, but hearing her voice made my heart race and I could feel my ears getting hot. I just prayed she wouldn't glance my way. "So, whose house we going to?"

"Ah, head on back to mine," Jesse said dismissively. "Benji lives next door."

"Right," I said, taking my headphones off and looking behind me to Jesse uninterestedly. "'Cause she knows exactly where you live, having just met you today, and all."

Chloe looked at me, her eyebrows raised surprisingly.

"You heard that? Over your music?" she asked, looking quickly back to the road. "You must have amazing hearing."

I blushed, my face going stony, and looked back out the passenger side window. I put my headphones back on to try and get them to stop talking about me, but Jesse carried it on.

"Oh, she does have great hearing," Jesse said, leaning back on Chloe's seat. "But, really, her iPod's either off or dead. She just wears those things to get people to leave her alone."

"Oh, really?" Chloe glanced over me as my previous blush, which had just cooled down, came back full force and I turned around to glare at Jesse.

"I do not!" I shouted indignantly, forgetting for a moment I was still wearing my headphones. When I moved to again face front and caught Chloe's suspicious stare, I frowned and cursed under my breath. "Crap."

"Case, and, point." Jesse said triumphantly, punctuating every word with a point of his finger. He flopped back into his seat, his arms crossed, also triumphantly, over his chest. "She's just shy."

I glared at him, my fist twitching as it hungered for his face, before huffing and slumping in my seat, staring intently out the front window.

"Well," Chloe said after a few seconds. "I think it's cute."

My head snapped in her direction and my mouth dropped open in shock. I worked my jaw to try and form a retort of some sort, anything to rescue the last remaining fragments of my dignity that Jesse had so thoroughly ripped to shreds moments before, but all that came out was a strangled, "Wha…?"

Chloe giggled and looked at me, slowing down at a stop light. Her eyes were alight with humor and something else I couldn't identify and she gave me a small smile.

"You are," she affirmed. My cheeks flushed redder than they'd ever been and I looked quickly away, shifting my headphones and sinking as low in my seat as my seatbelt allowed, all hoping that I would somehow turn intangible and sink through the floor. It probably wasn't a great hope, seeing as we had started moving again and I'd become road kill, but it was there, nonetheless.

After a few moments of embarrassed silence, I had gathered the courage to defend myself and mumbled something under my breath. Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough and Chloe had to ask me to repeat what I'd said because, and I quote, "My cute little voice wasn't loud enough for her ears."

"I said," I said. "'I'm not cute.'"

Chloe made an "awww" sound and I pouted. I realized soon after, though, that I wasn't helping my case and smacked her on the arm lightly. 'Cause, you know, she was driving and all… And, I kinda didn't want to hurt her, any…. But don't go repeating that!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Chloe said, her accent making it sound like she was saying "saw-ry". I couldn't help but think she was a little cute, herself, but I squashed the thought in favor for some more anger. Anger and hate and fury and abhorrence and enmity and disgust and animosity and horror and scorn and repulsion and antipathy (I am using a thesaurus). No happy feelings going on down here, no siree.

"My mistake, you're adorable." she amended. 'Cause that made it _so_ much better.

I was so caught off guard that I went with my first instincts and immediately made a comeback. Of course, years with only Jesse, my Gramma, and some co-workers you don't talk to for company, and your comebacks lack a little.

"Your _mom_ is adorable,"

Okay, maybe a lot.

Chloe screeched to a stop, causing all of us to surge forward in our seats and almost hurt ourselves greatly by slamming into whatever was in front of us. Luckily, we were all protected by our well thought out previous decision to put on our seatbelts. All except for Jesse, who smacked his face into the back of Chloe's seat and coincidentally knocked his face on the plastic bit on the headrest and chipped his front tooth. We ignored him.

"What the heck, Chloe!?" I screamed, my eyes wide in fright and my breathing hard. I put my hand on my chest and felt my heart racing in the aftereffects of terror. I seriously thought we were going to die. "What was that for!?"

Beyond the sound of Benji asking if everyone was alright, I heard the noise of a restrained giggle and looked incredulously to my left. There, in the driver's seat, was Chloe, shaking with barely contained laughter. I looked at her, flabbergasted, as she put her hand to her mouth to help better hold it in.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just-" she let out a small giggle and I blushed, realizing that she was laughing at my expense.

"Oh, I see how it is!" I yelled, throwing my hands up in the air in a this-is-what-I-get manner. "I deign to actually have a conversation with you and you just laugh and almost kill me! Well, excuse me for trying!" (Even though our conversation couldn't really be validly call a "conversation".)

Chloe couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, doubling over as much as she possibly could in her position and resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She laughed full and hard, and the sound of it made the corner of my mouth twitch, as if it wanted to join in, but I shook my head and crossed my arms, adamant in staying angry.

"You said-you said-" she was finally dying down and tried to finish what she was saying, but started up again after glancing at me, teary eyed, and seeing my pride demeaned as I sat there scowling.

Benji joined in with a few small chuckles of his own, but didn't laugh nearly as hard as Chloe since he was still taking care of Jesse, who was moaning in pain (I wasn't aware at the time what had happened, but it was really his own fault for not wearing a seatbelt so I didn't bother to find out). I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't stop from letting loose my own chuckle. I couldn't help it, her laugh was infectious.

After the Make Fun of Beca Half Hour Special (!) was over and done, Chloe went to put the car back in drive but stopped short with her hand on the gear shift. She looked around confusedly, then at me, her face kind of spooked.

"Hey, Beca, where are we?"

* * *

"Uugh, I'm so hungry!" Chloe held her stomach as we walked in the front door at ten o'clock at night. I rolled my eyes and followed her in, my own stomach rumbling loudly.

Turns out, Chloe, not knowing where Jesse's house was, had just been driving without paying attention to where she was going. We had become horribly lost and had no way of finding our way back since Benji didn't have a phone, Jesse left his in his room, Chloe's was coincidentally dead, and mine was so old it wasn't good for anything except calling people (and it was barely good for that).

I called my Gramma and she tried to talk us home, but we stayed out hours after we had meant to and even had to stop for gas (which I paid for since Chloe was broke until she got paid the next week (come to think of it, I didn't even know what she did for a living)). We eventually got home, though, and my Gramma and Bernie met us outside in the driveway and scolded us for not paying attention to our surroundings. Eventually, they chalked it up to the adventures of youth and let us free, saying the scare was enough punishment for us (Jesse, however was grounded for two weeks because that was the fifth time that month he left his phone at home and his parents were sick of it. Benji's parents were understanding and let him off with a, "We really should buy you a phone…").

"I'll make us something," I said, holding my own stomach and trudging to the kitchen.

I opened to fridge to see what we had and noticed that there was still some leftover mango cashew chicken stuff from last night. I grabbed it and opened it, sniffing it to make sure it was still fine. The rice was a little hard, but that could be remedied with some water and a microwave. I smiled. Score.

When I was done with that, I scooped it onto plates, grabbed forks, and brought it into the living room for Chloe and me. We ate on the coffee table sitting on the couch with the T.V. off and the lights dimmed. It was very quiet, but for some reason, not awkward at all. I remember thinking I could get used to living like this if I had to.

After we were done, we just sat there in each other's company. I was content with just being like that until I went to bed, but I had something I wanted to ask and now seemed as good a time as any.

"So, Chloe," I said nonchalantly. I glanced over at her to see that I had her attention and continued. "You're from Scotland?"

Chloe giggled and nodded her head, shifting so that she was facing me on the couch and resting her right arm over the back of it.

"Yeah, born and raised until I was seventeen." she said wistfully. "About then was when my impetuous teenage streak kicked in and I decided I was old enough to see the world. Dropped outta school and left the country. Haven't been back, since." she sighed and looked down dolefully. "I kinda miss it, sometimes."

I hummed and tapped my knee, thinking over what I'd just heard. How old did that make her?

"So you never finished high school?"

She laughed and smiled brightly at me.

"Of course I finished high school!" she pushed my shoulder a bit and I gave her a small smile. "I couldn't be in college right now if I hadn't."

My eyes widened comically and I leaned back slightly to get a better look at her. Of course, she did look old enough – or, I guess, young enough – to be in college, but the thought never crossed my mind before now. I guess I don't immediately go straight to school when thinking about people, sue me.

"You're in college?"

"Of course I am!" she giggled again and I cracked a small smile. "Before I turned twenty, I realized that dropping out of school was a mistake, and by then I was in the States, so I moved in with my aunt Bernie and got cracking at studying. I passed the GED test with flying colors and am now going to Barden's art department. I'm staying with Aunt Bernie this summer instead of going out with my friends. I'll be a senior next year."

"So that makes you…" I counted on my imaginary fingers, too tired to do math period, but somehow managing to get it done. "Twenty-three? If you entered college at twenty, I mean."

"That's right!" Chloe chirped cheerfully. "How about you?"

"How about me, what?" I asked, confused. I thought back to our conversation to see what she was asking me, but I still wasn't sure. "How about me school, or how about me age?"

"Both,"

"Oh, well, uh…" I said, shifting in my seat so I was seated sideways like her, my left arm draped over the back of the couch. "Well, I'm nineteen," I said awkwardly. "Though I'll be twenty at the end of the year." I scratched my cheek. "I… haven't done school in a while."

"Oh, did you…"

"Don't worry, I finished high school," I cut in quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "I was pulled from school young when we couldn't afford it anymore, and was homeschooled until I graduated at fourteen. It was a pretty sweet deal."

We sat in silence for a while after that. I got up to get myself a drink and ended up bringing her one, as well. She thanked me and took a sip, marveling at how good the green goop tasted (it was a blended fruit drink I got because it tasted good and was healthy). I leaned back in my seat and sipped my drink, content to simply sit there until I was finished and then go to bed.

After I was done, I was in the process of standing when Chloe spoke up.

"Were you ever lonely?"

I stopped in my tracks and looked at her. She was staring at the floor while curling a lock of already curled hair around her finger and letting it go. I sat back down and regarded her for a few seconds.

"I guess a little," I said, shrugging. "Though I had my Gramma with me so it wasn't all bad." I shifted in my seat, my own eyes going to the floor as hers came to meet mine. "There were some times, though, when I wouldn't be able to sleep at night because of that overwhelming sense of loneliness. In those moments I would just go sleep with Gramma in her bed."

I looked up and met Chloe's eyes. They looked a little watery and I raised an eyebrow in silent question. What brought this on?

"I was lonely," she said in a small voice. She looked at me pleadingly, as if asking me to do something, but I wasn't sure what, exactly.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable, before slowly reaching a hand out and patting Chloe on the back of her own hand, hoping this was the right thing. I'm not usually okay with touching people (or them touching me), so it was awkward, but Chloe still looked thankful.

"Those three years on my own had to have been the loneliest years of my life." she said sadly. "I can't bring myself to regret them, though. They were also the best years." she smiled, her earlier melancholy seeming to have never existed. "I saw so many amazing things and they led me to realize that I wanted to be an artist."

I nodded, secretly envious of the woman in front of me. I realized suddenly that my hand was still on hers and I slowly retracted it and put it in my lap. My skin was burning from where it touched hers and I glanced up to look at her. She looked slightly disgruntled for an instant, but it disappeared in a flash, making me doubt she'd ever had the expression at all.

"So, Beca," she said, suddenly cheery. "What do _you_ want to do with your life?"

It didn't take me long to answer her, my eyes sparkling as I stared into space and imagined my future.

"I want to be a DJ," I said dreamily. I could feel her curious stare on the side of my face, so I looked at her and elaborated, an excited smile permanently etched into my features. "I want to make mixes. I want to play in clubs, and I want to compose music, and I want to play every instrument imaginable, and I want to- I want to…"

I trailed off, realizing I was rambling. I frowned and rubbed my neck in embarrassment, not used to talking so much about myself, especially to a near complete stranger. I blushed when I saw Chloe smiling at me out of the corner of my eye and decided it was time for bed.

"Alright, well, I'm going to sleep." I said loudly as I got up, stretching my arms and legs.

"Aww, already?" Chloe whined, pouting. I glanced at her and immediately glanced away. Why was she so gosh darn cute? I must have been seriously sleep deprived. I'd never found anyone or anything besides little kids and baby animals cute before. Come to think of it, I had been thinking like that all day. What was wrong with me?

"Yeah, already," I said, not looking at her. I didn't think I could stand seeing that pout a second time and not explode.

"Are you _sure_ you can't stay up a _little_ later?" I stood stock still as she asked me that. I could hear the pout in her voice and had to fight hard not to look at her. I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to leave her alone. It was the same as when little kids asked me something. Turn on the pout and I was mush.

It was a well fought battle between my subconscious and I. The latter had wanted nothing more than to give in to the absolutely adorable spectacle that was no doubt going on right behind me, but my conscious mind knew better of it. They clashed for what seemed like years and after a gory spectacle of a fight, I won.

"I" as in my subconscious, I mean.

"Alright, fine. Not too late, though."

Chloe squealed in glee and I rolled my eyes and turned around, flopping back onto the couch. I watched her bounce up and down on the couch and decided maybe I should concede to my subconscious more often.

Not that I conceded. I totally fought to the bitter end. Totally.

**A/R: And thus ends another chapter.**

**Now, I realize that last chapter that I got only half the reviews as I did first, and none of them mentioned anything wrong with the chapter. PLEASE tell me what I did wrong. I KNOW I did something weird that chapter, but I have NO idea what it is! I will GLADLY fix it. I'm serious.**

**This one is an EH with me. Seeing as it was written over the course of three days, and only when I was physically and mentally tired (and watching videos on NewGrounds -3-), I don't know WHAT I think about it. It's up to you guys to make me have an opinion.**

**Well, as always, tell me if I did anything wrong (or right, for that matter) or if I could make anything better. Reviews equal to motivation so a lot of reviews means a lot of extra time for writing. WEEEEEEEEEE~~!**

**See ya then!**

**-Peace, G.C.**


	4. Ch 4

**A/R: Heya, guys! Salut! (Or however you spell that.)**

**Here's the fourth chapter! I don't write over the weekends because of work, and I couldn't get anything done Monday because I was out all day, then yesterday I had writer's block, but I got through it, today! Woohoo!**

**First of all, I want to say... Guest reviewer, whoever you are... I love you. I appreciate everything you wrote in your review and I want you to marry me. *gets down on my knee* Please, be my wife/husband/other. You can never have too many wives/husbands/others!**

**Oh, and just in case you say anything, Shorty, I told you when I proposed that I was planning on proposing to the guest, as well! It's a completely informed marriage on your part. Oh, and sorry I didn't have anyone step on Beca's leg, thus rendering her immobile. It wasn't in the cards. ALSO, GUYS. IT WAS SHORTY-600's IDEA FOR ME TO BRUTALLY MAIM BECA. HER FAULT. *points finger at cabbage* (whispers) (Don't worry, darling, I got ya back.)**

**Disclaimer: What are you kidding me? If I owned anything publicly recognizable, then I'd practically be a deity of some sort. Which I'm not. *shifty eyes***

**Housemates Ch. 4**

"You guys sure you don't want to play?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"If you're sure…"

"Go have fun, Beca, we'll be right here watching you."

I eyed Chloe and Benji as they sat in the shade underneath a tree on the side of the field. We were at a soccer complex with Jesse's soccer team just playing around because their coach was out of town for the week, but they still had to practice twice a week over the summer. They were a rag tag team that their coach was training to become pro, and they were called the Treblemakers (a joke a security guard made after a horrible trip to a karaoke bar). Sometimes, on days where they weren't serious, Jesse'd invite me to play with them. Not everyone was okay with it, at first, but they warmed up to me after a few months.

"Alright, then," I said reluctantly, not moving from my spot in front of them.

Over the week Chloe had been living with us she hadn't ever left my side. We talked about nearly everything and I showed her some stuff I'd done on the computer with a bootlegged copy of an old mixing software. She had told me that what I'd done was good, but I knew it was still amateur stuff compared to what the pros did. I couldn't do much better with the copy I had, though, since it was so old and kinda glitchy, but I refused to get a newer version until I could pay for it. I hated that I had to steal this version and I was definitely not doing that a second time.

Anyway, the point was that I felt bad leaving her alone. I had gotten used to her presence and it just felt… wrong leaving her.

"Beca, go."

I nodded and left, jogging into the gaggle of guys (heh) in the middle of the field.

"Becaw! Becaw!" Jesse crowed as I ran up. "And the elusive Mitchell bird rejoins the flock. You know they can take care of themselves, right?"

"Yeah, Beca," Kolio jumped in, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "You don't need to flirt with your girlfriend _all_ day. Just when we're not busy, so we can watch."

My mouth dropped open wide, my eyes following suit soon after as he said that. What was he talking about!? Chloe wasn't my gir- my girl- my girlfr- (Oh, God, I couldn't even think it!) we weren't together!

"Dude, quit it." Jesse said, punching Kolio in the arm. He cried out in protest and held his arm, his lower lip trembling. He wasn't the manliest of the group, but I had no comment on this at the moment because my mind was still trying to get over the fact that he had called Chloe my girlfr- girlfriee- gir- (dammit!)

"Beca's not like that," Jesse crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Right, Beca?" he looked at me expectantly, but I couldn't respond. I was still preoccupied with Kolio's previous comment. His eyebrows slowly knitted and the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown when he was left waiting, and his frown deepened further when he noticed I was blushing. "Beca?"

"Huh? Yes?" I snapped to attention, giving up on my internal struggle to at least _think_ the word "girlfriend" when it concerned Chloe. I raised an eyebrow at Jesse, pretending I'd never spaced out. "You need something?"

"He was asking if you were gay." Bumper said, rolling his eyes disinterestedly at me. "Which I say you definitely are, considering how you were looking at that babe back there."

Now, Bumper wasn't a bad man, but he could definitely try your patience. He was absolutely, beyond any doubt, the roughest one out of the group (and the worst singer). However, being the most passionate and most dedicated made him the captain. He would also do as many illegal moves as he could possibly manage without the ref seeing, plus he was arrogant and pretentious, but he took care of his teammates. Oh, and he hated me.

You see, when we weren't "acquainted" and he was on his high school team, I had reffed one of his scrimmages. At that point in time I was ARing for a high up center so I was in over drive on the fouls. I called one too many of his and he didn't appreciate that, but didn't come after me in the parking lot (he wasn't a "classless fool" as he put it) like Jesse did, instead opting to silently hate me from the shadows.

We used to fight like cats and dogs, but after a while he softened up (as in no longer greeting me with insults and not poking at me until I snapped anymore ("tolerance" is the words I'm looking for)) and I backed off, tired of the constant fighting. I still find him insufferable, though, and he still can't stand how I adhere to the rules, and that will never change.

"G-gay?" I asked, my voice squeaky. I'd never thought about that kind of stuff before, never having to, so that caught me off guard. Was I gay? I had no idea. I was going to say something, but luckily, since I was sure to have made everything worse for myself, I was interrupted by Chloe shouting from the sidelines.

"Hey! I thought we were here to watch some football, not a group of teenaged girls gossiping!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and all eyes turned to Chloe, who was standing on the sidelines with her hips jutted out impatiently and her hands resting on them. All at once, everyone around me said the exact same thing.

"Hot!"

I looked at them incredulously, thinking silently that boys were pervs. However, I couldn't stop myself from realizing that, in the back of my mind, on the very cusp of my subconscious, I was right there with them. It frightened me, but I couldn't help but be intrigued by it. I mean, you only ever fall in love once, right? I was wondering if this was my once, but I was scared to look and see. I'd never even been attracted to someone past the fleeting thought that they were good looking before. It was new, different, and I didn't know how I felt about that.

"Well, come on, guys!" I said, grabbing the ball from Unicycle (so named for his irrational love of clowns and all their unicycling tendencies) and running towards the goal. "Let's play world cup!"

"I'm on-"

"I'm with Beca!"

Jesse had been about to call being on my team, but Donald had beaten him to the punch. I actually liked Donald, and he was a pretty good striker, so I was a-okay with him being on my team.

He ran up to me and we fist bumped. Jesse gave me a puppy dog pout, but I shrugged my shoulders and smirked at him.

"You snooze you lose, man," Donald said haughtily, crossing his arms triumphantly and winking at Jesse. "We call being-"

"I'm Brazil!" Jesse shouted, cutting Donald off from calling his favorite country. Donald looked at him angrily, his glasses falling down on his face half way and his fists balling. Jesse just held up his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture while shaking his head. "Sorry, man, you snooze you lose."

We ended up being Zimbabwe.

The point of the game was to score the most goals, obviously, but instead of everyone being on two teams and scoring on two goals, we were paired up into groups of two, were given a country to represent, and shot at but a single net. To score, we had to shout out the name of our representing country before we shot (and make it in) otherwise it wouldn't count. If the keep caught it, he punted it as high as he could out to half field and we fought over it, bringing it back to the eighteen before being able to score. The keep couldn't come out of the six, either, so it was a fight.

After the first few embarrassing victory dances Donald and I made (much to the enjoyment of Chloe and Benji), we stopped keeping count of scores. We played for about an hour and a half (with plenty of water breaks) before everyone got tired and cranky because Donald and I kept on scoring (what can I say? We were a great team).

"Alright, one more game!" Benji shouted from the behind the goal where he and Chloe had re-stationed to better watch the matches. "Jesse and I need to be home in half an hour!"

"Welp, you heard him, boys," I said cockily, spinning the ball on my finger. "One more whooping and you're scot free."

"You should be relieved." Donald held out his hand for me and I slapped it as we exchanged a complicated secret handshake that involved many a spin, a few explosions, and even an implosion.

"Yeah, yeah," Bumper said, irritated. I could tell he'd had enough and was probably going to try something sneaky, so I decided to keep an eye on him. "Just give the keep the ball and let's get on with it."

I complied and threw the ball to Greg who immediately punted it as hard as he could. The poor dude had been sweating hardcore, but for good reason. We had been shooting as often and as hard as possible, and somehow he had managed to catch or deflect over half of our rapid-fire shots.

Unicycle ran underneath it and brought it down with his foot, immediately passing it to Jesse, who was on his team. Kolio ran into Jesse while he was in the middle of showing off and trying to do a rainbow and brought the ball down with his chest. He looked up and tried to do a long pass up to Bumper, but Donald jumped in the way and headed it into an open space near the corner of the field. I sprinted to receive the ball, but was beat to it. Someone else stole the ball from that guy, but then I stole it back and passed it off to Donald.

Right as I was kicking it, however, Bumper slammed into me. Now, if you do the math and factor in Newton's laws of physics, 5'8" and one billion pounds plus 5'0" and, like, twenty pounds or something, equals flight.

I yelped as I was flung and landed first right then left shin right on top of one of those decorative rocks the Parks people put along the pebbled path, my momentum flipping me over it to hit my head on the ground and rolling to a stop on my back. I let out a pained cry as I hit, my eyes squeezed tightly shut to try and hold in any more noises, my breath coming out in a hiss. I sat up and my world slowed down. I swore this was worse than when I got run over by that car (even though that was completely illogical, but it had been years since that had happened and because of my concussion I didn't remember much of it so logic wasn't in mind at the moment).

"Beca!" I clearly heard Chloe shout my name over what I had just then distinguished as buzzing voices all worrying over me rather than just a buzzing in my ears, and peeked open my eyes to try and search for her. "Beca, are you okay!?"

I looked around, my vision slightly blurry, and saw Jesse kneeling at my side and Chloe running up (rather quickly, I might add, for someone who doesn't do sports (she told me herself that she'd rather watch)) to take her own place next to him. She looked me in the eyes, saw the pain reflected in them, and looked down at my legs which were going numb.

She winced and gingerly touched my legs and I flinched, sucking air in through my teeth. I chanced a glance down at my legs, which Jesse had spread out straight and winced again, feeling bile rise in my throat. The skin was ripped and torn for about three inches on each shin, and I swear I could see bone (even though everyone else says I was simply being dramatic). There were rocks and pieces of dirt stuck in them and I refused to look up again just in case I saw skin dangling from the side of the stone. (_Not_ being dramatic!)

I let my eyes trail back to Chloe, who was now talking on her phone and glaring at Bumper who looked shocked, like he didn't quite grasp the full extent of what had just happened. Jesse followed my eyes and literally _growled_ when he saw I was looking at Bumper, who just had right then noticed Chloe's glare. He looked guilty and then scared when Jesse got up and marched towards him (no doubt going to tear him to pieces), but he didn't move. I looked away from them and to Chloe who looked back at me when she noticed my head move.

She put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile that was ruined by the worry in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Chloe," I said, my voice tight as I shifted, taking my weight off of my right hand (I had been leaning back on both) and putting it over Chloe's on my right shoulder, the movement sending jolts of pain through both my legs, but my right one more so. I thought it might be broken. "I'm sure I've had worse."

Chloe's eyes widened in alarm, but she decided not to question what I said, instead choosing to smile a little and let out a small laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just," she shook her head, her eyes tearing up slightly, "here you are, bleeding all over everything, and you're reassuring _me_. It's kind of odd."

I gave her a shaky smile and she turned her hand, lacing her fingers in mine. We shared a silent moment where I could have sworn my pain was lessening, but then Donald and Greg came running up with napkins and gauze and it broke. Chloe took her hand off my shoulder, but kept our fingers laced. I was too distracted by the guys pouring water on my legs and trying to clean my wounds as best they could to feel embarrassed, and was even a little grateful for the support.

"I called the hospital," Chloe said to the guys when they showed up. "They said, since it wasn't bad enough to warrant an ambulance, to clean it as best we can and get her in as fast as possible."

"Don't worry, I have a lot of gauze," Greg said, opening some packets and pressing them onto my legs. I swallowed a yell and squeezed Chloe's hand, banging my left fist into the ground repeatedly as he handed some to Donald and he pressed some onto my other leg. "I need it a lot since I'm always cutting my arms and legs in the goal."

When they finished they asked if I could stand, but I shook my head while holding my breath when intense pain shot through me from just flexing my calf muscles. They shared a look and then turned to me and I and I was sure I knew what they were about to do. I closed my eyes, dreading every second of my life right then, squeezed Chloe's hand, and nodded. They counted to three and lifted me up.

When we got to the hospital, they put me on a rolling bed and brought me to the back room. I wouldn't let go of Chloe's hand to save my life (possibly literally), so after an argument where Chloe shocked me by snapping at the doctor person when he asked her if she would kindly let go, he let her in with me and they checked out my legs.

The verdict was that I had scraped the skin straight off my legs (duh), needed stitches in my right, and had hugemongous bruises on both that would probably last for a few weeks. They asked me for my billing information and sent me on my way with a small bottle of painkillers and a prescription, telling me to try not to walk for about three weeks.

"I still can't believe he did that!" Chloe growled, speeding out of a green light, possibly leaving skid marks and fire in her wake. "That was just-that was- Agh!"

"Chloe, calm down," I said, gripping the door handle on my right to try and keep myself steady. She looked at me and immediately slowed down, her face apologetic and slightly guilty.

"I'm sorry," she said, reluctantly looking back to the road. "It's just- ugh, he makes me so angry! Why would he slam you that hard, anyway! You're like, half his height!"

"It's not entirely his fault," I said, shrugging. I felt much better after taking those pills, even a little sympathetic towards Bumper, and, no, that wasn't only the drugs. "I knew how short his temper was and I wouldn't let up on the gloating. Plus, I'm not half his height."

"But still-"

"_And_," I said, cutting Chloe off from another angry mini-rant. "You heard how he apologized at the hospital, he was even tearing up a little."

"I know-"

"_And_, he paid for the bill," I smirked.

"Beca!" I laughed, the smirk I had gained while flustering Chloe turning into a wide grin. She sighed audibly, a small smile of her own dancing on her lips, but she wouldn't let it grow, choosing instead to put on a serious face. "I _know_ all that, but I don't think I could ever forgive him. Not entirely."

I looked at Chloe, my smile now turning from teasing to appreciative. She was so caring, it warmed my heart. It was nice to have someone like this every once in a while. Jesse would care for a little bit, but would forget easily, and my Gramma would always preach to me to be tough and get through it (not that I didn't appreciate that sentiment, it's just… You know…) while tending to me.

My mind wandered to what Kolio and Bumper had been talking about before we started playing, and I turned my head towards the passenger window, setting my elbow on the arm rest on the door and resting my chin in my open hand to hide my blush. It was true I seemed to like Chloe more than I did most people, but that was fine, right? It didn't mean I… you know… _like_ liked her. I didn't have anything against girls liking girls, but… I mean, stuff like that doesn't happen to me, you know? My life is supposed to be uber normal with nothing special going on. At least, that's what I perceived it to be. I mean, I would have _liked_ for things to be a _little_ special, but… come on. What was so special about _me_?

Then again… Chloe _was_ an amazing person. And she and her aunt _did_ move in with us out of the blue. That _had_ to be special, right? Special things _could_ happen to me, sometimes. And who's to say I _couldn't_ like a girl? I _couldn't_ like Chloe? I _couldn't_ want her as my gir-girlfri-girirll… significant other?

I blushed again. I couldn't seem to stop doing that when I thought of her. Maybe I really did like her. I-

"Hey, Beca, are you okay?" Chloe said, startling me out of my thoughts. I jumped slightly and registered the fact that I was still looking out the window and that outside of the window was my neighbor's house, which meant we were home.

"Y-yeah, fine," I said, rubbing my chin which was aching a bit from the pressure I'd put on it for so long. "Why do you ask?"

"You were kinda spacing out there." she looked at me sympathetically, probably assuming it had something to do with my boo boos.

"Oh, y-yeah, I'm okay. It's probably just the medicine making me drowsy, or something." after I said this, a well-timed yawn escaped from my mouth, convincing Chloe that I certainly was not thinking about her in any way more intimate than a close friendship. (Good job, auto response systems!)

"Then we should get you inside and to your room," she said, getting out of the car and rounding it to get to my side.

As she was making her way, I thought that it didn't matter if I liked her like _that_ or not. At that very moment, I just wanted to be close to her and that was good enough for me.

**A/R: I want to take this time to say a special thanks to all my guest reviewers who I couldn't respond to via PM because, well, they're guests. Thanks, man. Also, I reply to every review! If you have any questions, feel free to say something!**

**Alright, so, what'd you think!? Anything I should change? Errors of any sort that weren't ironed out during my, like, three minute long editing? (I'm amazing, I know.) Anything you'd like to see? Anything you'd like me to change? Critiques? Complaints? Anything!?**

**Well, as always, I will take everything suggested into consideration and give credit if I need to. I'll see ya guys next chapter!**

**-Peace, G.C. **


	5. Ch 5

**A/R: Duuuuuuude! What's uuuuuuuuuppppppppppppppppppppppppppp!?**

**Heya, guys! Sorry this chapter took a WHOLE nearly a week! Also, it would have been up earlier today if not for complications! (CURSE YOU, LIFE! *shakes fist*) BUT. I have a special treat for you this chapter. Firstly, it's a whole 4,273 words long. Longest chapter yet! WHOOP! Also, we have a bit of insight to how being run over by a car made Beca feel! Therapy is the best! Especially when Tentacles are involved. *wonk***

**Disclaimer: I own Pitch Perfect? *pushes against wall and holds knife to throat* Who told you that!? I'll cut them! Tell that rat that I don't own NOTHIN' publicly recognizable! Got that!? NOW SCRAM!**

**Housemates Ch. 5**

It had been two weeks since my accident, and I was sick. No, not sick as in ill, but sick as in tired. The doctor had told me that I couldn't get my stitches wet, and so I hadn't been able to bathe this entire time and I _stunk_ with a capital _STINKY_. Soon no one but Chloe (bless her soul) would stay in the same room with me, and when they _had_ to interact with me, they would hold their nose, or in extreme cases (of Jesse being an absolute _ass)_, put cotton in their nostrils and yell as if I were deaf.

I henceforth made it a mission to somehow purify my body of this horrendous funk.

Chloe and my Gramma were against the idea of me showering (at least alone), saying I shouldn't even be walking around let alone standing amidst soap and water (because, as Chloe poetically put it, "I would totally slip and fall and somehow impale myself on a plunger or something,") and I absolutely refused to let one of them in there with me (there's no _way_ I'm letting _anyone_ see me naked) so I had lost that argument. However, I was a bit more resourceful than they'd given me credit for, and with the help of an ecstatic Jesse, a little sneaking around, and Benji's parents' car, I managed to gain access to a shower in the local gym.

I wasn't stupid, though, no matter _what_ anyone might say about me, and I had gotten that water-proof painter tape and a load of gauze to cover my stitches with. I figured that'd be okay when I came up with it, plus we tested it twice and it worked, so I was good to go.

"You ready to go, Beca?" Jesse shouted at me right in front of my face. I leaned back a bit and glared at him, grinding my teeth to keep from striking him somewhere he wouldn't want to be hit.

"Would you _not_ do that, _please_? I'm not _deaf_, you know." I said through clenched teeth, my ears ringing. I dug a pinky in my right ear to try and stop the noise, but it didn't really work. Why did people even _do_ that, anyway? Jesse just smiled deviously at me, no doubt ignoring anything I said and planning on doing it again later.

"Where you guys going?" Chloe sounded from behind me. I turned around, my entire being going up in panic and my cheeks flaring as she skipped up and stood right next to me, her smile beaming. She looked at me funny as my mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out as I tried to formulate a lie but was unable to. (I had gotten more used to her being around after three weeks and could now comfortably be with her without freaking out and blushing when she would randomly touch me. Not entirely cured, but better.)

"Uh, we're…" Jesse started, seeing my peril and jumping to the rescue like a dorky knight with cotton in his nose. "…Going to a movie." he smiled as if he had just won the jackpot by telling Chloe the dumbest lie in the history of dumb dumb dumbyness. I hated movies.

She looked at him skeptically, not really believing his lie, and glanced at me for confirmation. I learned early on that I couldn't really lie to her (I would feel too guilty about it and spill the truth not long after) so I looked away and avoided her gaze with what I hoped was a nonchalant look on my face. I would have whistled, but I thought that was over selling it.

"The movies…?" she asked, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing all in a rather suspicious manner.

"Yeah, movies." Jesse said, his head nodding way too fast to be nothing less than an insane twitch. Dude probably drank some Koolaid before heading over. "No standing at the movies! It's all sitting down so Beca'll be off her legs for everything but the wait and the walk to the car! No need to worry, I've thought it all out."

Chloe looked like she might actually be persuaded before she caught a glimpse of something in Jesse's hand.

"You're going to the movies?" Jesse nodded and Chloe pointed. "Then what's the bag of tape and gauze for?"

Jesse actually choked and started coughing when Chloe pointed out the bag of supplies he had fortuitously brought with him out of the car to grab me. I smacked a hand to my forehead and Jesse stumbled on his excuse, not really giving the best performance.

"B-Benji's parents… they asked me to pick it up for them. Yeah, they're painting their kitchen and needed this," he lifted the bag for emphasis. "For the… for the lines and stuff. And so, you know, so they won't get paint on the… stove, and… yeah."

Chloe crossed her arms, and stared intimidatingly at Jesse, literally making him sweat, and I could tell he was close to breaking when luckily Benji honked the horn from outside. I breathed out a (hopefully unnoticeable) sigh of relief and Jesse said that we had to go. Chloe reluctantly let us leave and we booked it outa there. Well, as bookily as my injuries would allow me to go which wasn't much faster than a light jog. Speed walking would have been faster, but I refused to do something so lame. Speed walking is for lame old people. (Sorry, Gramma.)

The ride over there was needlessly tense. All the windows were rolled down and I was sat in the back of the three row minivan. I thought that was unfair, but the boys just told me to deal since they were going through so much for me. I pouted the whole way there, and the fact that Jesse kept sneaking glances at me out of the corner of his eye while he was talking to Benji didn't escape me. I'd gone three weeks without _that_ talk, and I didn't want to have it now, so I let it go.

When we arrived, I grabbed the stuff aggressively from Jesse and threatened his and Benji's lives if they even _thought_ about following me.

"But, Beca," Benji said, his face going into puppy mode. I physically cringed at the effective attack (that boy was unnecessarily adorable at times) and took a step back, shielding my eyes as if they burned. "What if you _do_ slip and fall? I mean, Chloe and Ms. Mitchell had a point-"

"I'll be fine." I cut him off and quickly turned around to avoid any more attacks. "Just-just be back in an hour, or so. I'll be out by then."

Jesse nodded and pushed Benji back towards the car, eager to get away from me, ignoring any protests on Benji's part. I walked into the gym with my tote bag of a towel, shampoo, and conditioner that had already been stashed in Benji's parents' car yesterday as well as the tape and gauze (which I put in the tote), and quickly made my way to the showers.

I sat down on the bench (I had left the house in a big T-shirt and some old basketball shorts for the sake of convenience) and carefully wrapped my leg with the gauze before taping over it. The bruises on both my legs were in the yellow-green stage, almost all gone, but they still hurt like heck and I couldn't stand on them for long. I sat there for ten minutes after I was done with the tape (luckily I had thought to shave not an hour before Jesse picked me up), gathering myself, before finally standing up and taking my tote bag to the shower.

I wasn't used to public showers, having used one maybe once before in my life, so I pulled the curtain and stripped behind the safety of the thin cloth connected to the walls with Velcro. I put my clothes in the tote that was hanging on the outside of the curtain and turned on the water, waiting a few minutes before letting it get warm.

I was one of those people who sang in the shower, so, starting out with a soft humming, halfway through my shower I eventually began to sing the song Titanium by David Guetta only slightly louder than the fall of the water. Chloe had said before that the song was one of her favorites and I had been inspired to create a mix for her. I had used the song before in the background with 500 Miles by The Proclaimers, but it wasn't prominent and I wanted to do something special. For her.

I just then realized how odd that was and sort of faltered in my singing, but picked it back up quickly afterwards, failing to notice the sound of rapid footsteps outside of my stall.

I was in the middle of rinsing out my hair when the curtain to my most private sanctuary was pulled back and my name was shouted in wonder.

"Beca!"

I yelped and slipped, falling forward and barely catching myself on the handle to the shower before I crushed my head on the tile wall, coincidentally turning the water down to a steady dribble. I fought the urge to whirl around and beat up whoever dared startle me while I was wet and naked kung fu style, deciding instead to curl up in the corner of the stall, trying to hide myself because, well, I was wet and naked. Also because I was fairly sure I recognized the voice that had intruded and I was blushing so hard my entire body was red. It might've just been from the steaming hot water (my Gramma always said that I boiled myself like a lobster), but I could have sworn it was all a blush.

"I thought you said you couldn't sing!" Chloe exclaimed loudly, stepping into the shower with me, causing my blush to deepen as I banged my head against the wall.

"Chloe…" I ground out through clenched teeth. Not because I was angry (well, I guess I was, but it wasn't the first thing on my hormonal teenaged mind), but because it seemed to be the only way to get words out without becoming a stuttering mess. "Why… are you here?"

Chloe was silent, as if she hadn't heard me ask her anything. I waited a few minutes before gathering up the courage to peek behind me, stopping in shock at what I saw. Chloe's eyes were worried and slightly horrified, and her mouth was hanging open in her own shock. I turned just a little bit so I could get a better look at her, but not so much that she could see anything more than what she already had.

"Chloe?" I asked, my voice laced with worry. It seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in and she met my gaze. I took a sharp intake of breath as I saw that her eyes were tearing up and I couldn't help but notice in the back of my mind how it made her eyes shine in one of the most beautiful ways I'd ever seen, but I wasn't paying attention to that. She was sad. Why was she sad?

"…Beca?" she ventured, her lip trembling as she whispered my name. I looked at her worriedly and nodded my head, showing her she had my full attention, before she went on. She reached out her arm hesitantly and brushed her fingers softly against the scars on my back that I had quite forgotten were there. It was so soft that I probably wouldn't have even noticed she'd done it if not for the sharp jolt of electricity that seemed to shoot through my entire body at her touch. Her arm seemed to shiver slightly, as if she had felt it, too, but I knew that was my imagination. What was the chance that would happen?

"How… how did you get these scars…?"

"Chloe," I repeated to grab her attention. Her eyes flashed from my back to mine, and I couldn't help the second intake of breath as our gazes locked for a second time. She really was beautiful. I smiled reassuringly, if a little falteringly. "It wasn't anything serious, and I promise I will tell you all about it, but right now I kind of need to finish my shower."

Chloe's eyes went wide and her entire face flushed a deep scarlet, nearly matching the red of her hair. She quickly pulled her hand away and stumbled back a few steps before letting out a clumsy, "O-oh, I-I'll just-I'll… be out here." before bolting out of the stall and pulling the curtain closed too quickly, ripping it off of two rungs.

"Oo-oops." she said from behind the curtain. I chuckled and turned the water back on, cringing when I noticed it had been on this entire time it hadn't been used. I mourned slightly for the loss of the resource and lamented on how much money was wasted before getting over myself and finishing my shower.

I grabbed the towel I had slung over the towel bar and dried myself off, grabbing my clothes and changing back into them. They were still clean, having only been worn for an hour before I left, so I didn't see the need to change. I packed all my stuff back in my tote and left the bathroom, finding Chloe standing outside the entrance.

"So…" I said awkwardly, trailing off when she wouldn't really meet my eyes. She looked a little ashamed, so, seeing that she was no longer crying (although her eyes were rimmed red as a plain indicator that she had been), I manned up and grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

Chloe looked up at me curiously, but I just went straight faced and blushed, remembering the way she had touched me in the shower (dirty way of putting it, Beca, nice job) and the way it made me feel (even worse there, man, what's wrong with you?). I could feel her give me a soft smile and squeeze my hand back before standing straight from her leaning position on the wall.

"Well, I'll give you a ride home," she said, rubbing her eyes as we started our walk to her car. "You just call Jesse and tell him no need for a rendezvous."

I looked at her, about to ask how she knew, but she cut me off with a snort and a roll of her eyes.

"Really, Beca? You expected me to believe _you_ went willingly to the movies with _Jesse_? That nut of a movie freak? Please. Plus, all the signs were there. I know for a fact that Benji's parents had their kitchen remodeled before they moved in. Plus, your bandages are far from needing replaced. What else would you need the water proof tape and gauze for other than to disobey direct orders?"

I looked at her blankly for a moment before looking away and cursing Jesse.

"You're a scary woman, Chloe Beale," I said, looking back up at her. "Remind me not to leave you alive if I ever want to commit arson or a murder or something."

"Oh, please," Chloe scoffed, shaking her head. "Like you could ever manage to kill the best thing in your life. No offense to Ms. Mitchell, but, come on, look at me."

I shook my head and smirked, still blushing slightly and chuckling under my breath as we exited the building, our hands still clasped. She started to swing our hands in between us and I couldn't help thinking about just how right she was.

Surprisingly, Chloe and I held hands the entire ride home, though I hesitated slightly when she let go to get in the car. The thoughts of what we had been talking about were fresh again in my mind and I felt a small chill run up my spine as I opened the passenger side door. It disappeared soon afterwards when Chloe buckled and regained her hold on my appendage. It filled me with a good feeling and steered my thoughts away from past tragedies.

The feeling was peaceful and filled me with a warmth I don't remember ever feeling before followed by a sense of loss when we had to pull apart to get out of the car. It was an odd sensation and I started growing skeptical of myself. There was no way this was mere friendship, but I was reluctant to call it anything but.

I was still thinking about it when we entered the house and headed up to my room, closing the door behind us as Chloe sat on the edge of my bed and I in my chair. We stared at each other for a moment, the silence expectant and slightly awkward, but neither of us spoke up. We both knew that something had to be said, but we were reluctant to start. Chloe for some reason I couldn't really guess at, and me, because... well it really wasn't a big deal at the time, but it kind of _used_ to be.

"So," I said after a while, rubbing my knees with my first two fingers to try and focus on something other than the awkwardness in the room. "What kind of person just waltzes into people's showers while they're being used?"

Chloe looked at me, dumbfounded, obviously expecting something else entirely to come out of my mouth before bursting into laughter. I blushed at the memory, but smiled. Chloe's laughter was like a kind of music in itself. I ended up chuckling a little myself, to match her. I may have forgotten to mention this, before, but Chloe's laughter was very contagious.

"Sorry," she said after her laughter had been subdued to mere giggles. I couldn't help but find them adorable. "I was just going to work out since I wasn't able to do it this morning and I heard singing. I just wanted to see who it was, but then I heard you falter and I could have sworn that was your voice so I went to look and…"

Her smile faltered and she looked down. She scooted back on my bed so that she was against the wall and pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. The silence once again became awkward, but it wasn't for long.

"So, how did you get those scars, if you don't mind me asking?" she questioned, looking at me. She looked worried and like she might just start crying again, and I immediately relocated to the bed, sitting next to her so that our shoulders touched. I didn't know what she might be imagining, but it definitely wasn't good judging by her reaction.

She leaned her head on my shoulder and took my hand and I blushed, thinking about how uncomfortable it must be for her since she was so tall (probably as tall as Jesse). I cleared my throat and looked at my feet which were splayed out in front of me.

"It wasn't as bad as you must be thinking," I started out, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "When I was fourteen/fifteen, I had a paper route-" Chloe giggled here, and I glanced at her curiously, but she just urged me to continue. "-I was doing really well with it, too, but one day, when I was walking my bike across a cross walk, this random guy ran the stop sign and hit me." Chloe's hand tightened on mine and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I flew right into someone's garbage they'd put out the night before and hadn't been picked up yet. They had a mirror out and I crashed into it. The pieces stuck in my back and most had to be surgically removed. I came out of it with two broken arms, a concussion, and three fractured ribs. Nothing too bad."

"Nothing too bad!?" Chloe repeated, aghast. She looked at me like I was crazy. "That's horrible! I can't even imagine how you're able to be around cars anymore after that!"

I fell silent and my eyes trailed the floor, focusing on nothing in particular. Chloe watched me worriedly, shifting so she was sitting facing me.

"Beca?" she ventured. "Did I say something I shouldn't've?"

I didn't look at her, but I didn't leave her hanging. I wouldn't. I wanted her to know about me. There was no reason except for the selfish need to have that one person in my life that would know everything about you and wouldn't judge you for it. I hadn't even told Jesse about what I was about to say, and the only one who knew about it was my Gramma, but even she didn't know the full extent. She had thought I had gotten completely over it.

"After I got out of the hospital," I said, I let go of Chloe's hand and brought my knees to my chest and laid my arms on top of them. "I wouldn't go near cars or bikes. Every time I thought about riding in or on one, I would relive the crash and freeze up in terror. There was no rhyme or reason, and I knew I was being silly, but it would happen. Even being as old as I was, I would wake up in the middle of the night, crying, and crawl into my Gramma's bed. I still wouldn't be safe from nightmares there, but it was better than being alone. I guess it was a form a PTSD or something.

"I eventually got over it – for the most part. I never got a bike again, but riding them doesn't scare me anymore. I can get in a car, now, but I'm still a little nervous when behind the wheel. I'm still the tiniest bit afraid at stop signs or traffic lights that someone will just-schwoop!-run it and hit me or my breaks will fail and I'll be the one doing the hitting."

"Is that why I almost never see you driving your Gramma's car?" Chloe asked. I nodded my head limply, resting my forehead on my arms and hiding my face. Remembering how pathetic I was made me less confident about myself and I didn't really want to look up at Chloe and see her judging me for what I had been.

"It's easier with other people driving," I said, my voice muffled by my arms. "But it's still there in the back of my mind."

I heard a small sniffling and looked up, shocked. I scurried to my knees and put my hand on Chloe's cheek which was wet with tears, my worry overpowering my embarrassment at how close she was to me.

"Chloe, Chloe, what's wrong? Don't cry," I said, wiping her tears away with my thumbs. I had the stray thought that this all was rather cliché, and Jesse might get a kick out of it later (well, if he didn't seem to have a slight crush on me), but I ignored it.

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffling some more. She covered my right hand with her left and leaned her face into it slightly. The rather intimate gesture didn't escape my notice, and I started to wonder at where _she_ stood in the feelings department. "I seem to be crying a lot today, don't I?"

"Hey, it's alright," I said, scooting just a tad closer so that my knees touched hers. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You're just relating to a particularly horrible experience. That's a great thing to be able to do. It makes you a _great_ person, I swear."

Chloe smiled, chuckling a little and closed her eyes, sighing contentedly.

"You always know what to say, don't you?" she asked, her tone thankful.

"I try." I shrugged, though she couldn't see it.

She didn't reply and I was stuck there in that position, our faces literally inches apart, a little less than a foot, even. My eyes flashed down to her lips, and started to slowly drift close. It wasn't until I could feel her breath on my lips that my eyes flashed open and I jumped backwards, breaking her hold on me and leaving her slightly bewildered.

"Beca?" she asked, confused and slightly hurt, though I wouldn't know why. "Is everything okay?"

"J-just peachy." I stuttered, my face blushing like a mad woman and my heart beating about eleventy trajillion miles per nanosecond. She was in the process of getting up, but I stopped her with a raised hand, my other one rubbing the back of my neck embarrassedly. "You know what? I think I have something to do. I-I should leave."

And, so, before she could protest, I became the humanized version of the Road Runner and beep-beeped it outa there. I didn't know where I was going, but I was definitely going to hide _somewhere_.

I couldn't believe I had just tried to kiss Chloe Beale. _Chloe Beale._ My _best friend_ (sorry, Jesse) Chloe Beale. The thought was unimaginable, and yet, I felt a longing for just that. I wanted to do it. Dammit, I _needed_ it. I closed my eyes shut as I ran as fast as I could, injuries be damned, and felt them watering a tiny bit.

It was official. It hadn't even been a month and I was in like (love?) with Chloe Beale.

**A/R: Well! That was amazing! I'm such a cool person for giving you guys a bone like that. You may now praise me.**

**Before I do anything else, I want to say thank you to the guest review HelloHello. You're amazing, dude. I don't know if you realized or not, but, last chapter, that was YOU who I was proposing to. Offer's still up there if you want it.**

**ALSO. Someone asked me about a possible chapter in Chloe's POV. I'm curious, who would like this? Also have it noted that if I were to write this, it would probably take longer than Beca's POV, AND it'd be in third person. I don't know if you guys would still want it, then, but it would pick up about where this one left off, along with some backstory on how Chloe's been feeling these past three weeks.**

**Tell me what you think! I'll take reviews or PMs (PLEASE, REVIEW), so don't be hesitant to contact me! Let me say, though... You get more space in a review to type than in a PM. *hint hint* As per usual, I will take any and all critiques and suggestions into mind and make any changes that I feel need to be implemented into any chapter.**

**See you guys in the reviews!**

**-Peace, G.C.**


	6. Ch 6

**A/R: HEY, GUESS WHAT.**

**YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT. CHAPTAH SYX, BAYBEH! CHLOE POV, FTW!**

**Hah! I knew it'd take forever! I'm TOTALLY not practiced in the fine art of writing Chloe (Aubrey's a bit easier!). I got better, though! It was easier peasier near the ending. You can probably tell if you pay attention.**

**This one is structured a lot like the first chapter, in that it tells a back story via summary and has little snippets of actual interaction and dialogue. I don't think I'll be doing another Chloe POV any time soon, but I think it might go faster next time! Two-ish weeks is enough!**

**Let me thank ChangingTheRules for keeping me close company while I wrote this. I had forgotten I was writing it for, like, five days and she reminded me! HAHA. HA. Yeah.**

**Also, this is a plea for attention, Shorty! I feel like we're separated. (Even though we really do livein separate homes.) That's never good for a marriage! Never!**

**Well, moving past that, I grant you with 5,000+ words. Sorry for taking so long.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Pitch Perfect, you can BELIEVE *I* would be taking it in the divorce! As it stands, I don't, so let's not worry about it. Ignore anything I said about divorce.**

**Housemates Ch. 6**

Many people would call Chloe Beale many things. Some would call her impetuous, some cheerful, most would call her beautiful or a joy to be around. The one thing nobody would call Chloe was unsure. Her entire life she had been confident in everything she'd done. She had chalked it up to her natural ability to predict what others would do, but ever since meeting Beca Mitchell, she had faltered. Chloe Beale was unsure.

Chloe had made some very bad choices at a very young age (well, she was still young, but that was beside the point), and had ended up in some even worse places. She was forced to learn how to read and manipulate people to make her way in the world, though she regretted the circumstances, she could not deny the usefulness. Whether it was convincing her landlord into giving her another week or two to pay her rent, or buddying up or sympathizing with her customers at the various restaurants she'd worked at to get better tips, she could do it all.

The girl prided herself on her likeable personality and general street smarts, but what she was most proud of was her natural born ability. She had gotten herself out of many a bad situation with her knack to read people and guess how they would react. She'd not met a person she couldn't read in her entire life on her own, so when she did, it came as quite a shock. She became intrigued with that person and would never forget the moment she first came across her.

She had been staying the spring break with her aunt and had taken a walk around the town she lived in. On her walk, she had stopped to look at a tattoo parlor. Channeling her impetuosity, she decided to go in and get herself her first tattoo. Perusing the selections wasn't a long task because on the second page she had fallen in love with the cutest ladybug tattoo she'd ever seen. The decision to get it was immediate; after all, she just adored ladybugs. (She found it absolutely adorable that they were called ladybugs even though half of them were male. She would giggle every time she remembered the scene in A Bug's Life where the ladybug would grump about how he was a guy. That was her favorite part in her favorite movie.)

She asked the guy if she could get the tattoo on her wrist and the guy said he could and suggested she get it right then while he was between appointments. She smiled and nodded, accepting his proposal and sitting down in the chair.

The guy cleaned her arm and got down to business. Chloe winced a little at first, but decided it wasn't the worst thing in the world and sucked it up. She distracted herself by watching people walk by outside, trying to see if she could guess where they were going or what they were doing.

That was the first time she saw Beca Mitchell. She saw her walking by the window and immediately her interest was piqued. The girl was small, petite, and serious looking. She seemed a little disgruntled, but you could tell see that she was enjoying herself at least a little bit. It was in the way her expression seemed displeased, but her eyes were calm with contentment. Chloe noticed an old woman walking at her side and guessed that maybe the old woman had asked her to do something with her, and maybe the girl had wanted to do something that day instead but was somehow unable to.

Just when the duo was about to pass the parlor window, Chloe felt herself wishing the girl would stop. To her amazement, the girl did just that and what Chloe saw took her breath away. The girl was stunning. She had sharp features, though they were softened by her youth, and expressive eyes. And as her eyes fell upon all the pictures of the tattoos and the man currently drawing on Chloe's wrist they immediately grew large in astonishment. The only thought going through Chloe's head at that moment was that that was the most adorable thing she'd ever seen.

Chloe stared unabashedly and when the girl's eyes made their way to Chloe's, her face instinctively split into the widest smile she could muster. She felt a tingle go down her spine when their gazes met and she knew immediately that she had to talk to this girl. There was definitely some kind of connection, and by the way the girl's eyes widened, she'd be damned if the other girl didn't feel it, too.

Chloe had realized pretty quickly the first year on her own that she liked women. And when she said "women" she meant _women_. She didn't usually go for the short adorable types, but she knew she'd make an exception for whoever this girl was. She decided then and there that when she was finished she'd head right on out, and if she was right, the girl would be staying and wanting to talk to her, too.

Imagine her surprise when the girl's face suddenly became expressionless. She turned to look to her left as if someone were talking to her, and then said something Chloe couldn't hear and left. That was it. She left. No glance back, no meaningful look, just… nothing.

To say Chloe was disappointed was an understatement.

That moment and that girl were forever etched into her memory and she found that, for the next two years, no matter what was going on in her life, her mind would always wander back to that girl and wonder why she didn't stay.

She developed a sort of inferiority complex about that moment for a few months that some nice lecturing from her roommate quickly got rid of.

Aubrey Posen was Chloe's best friend. She had coincidentally met her at the grocery store a week before they were officially introduced as roommates in their college dorm. They fought over the last packet of Oreo's (which Chloe won, but not without a few battle scars) and left a pretty bad impression on each other upon parting. They got over it quickly, neither one of them wanted to room with someone they disliked, and the rest was history.

A few months after Chloe got her tattoo and not quite met her possible soul mate (Aubrey doubted she was anything more than a pretty face, but Chloe was adamant that it was more), Chloe was being especially spacey. She spaced out a lot since "meeting" Beca Mitchell (whose name she didn't know), but Aubrey was trying to discuss something important pertaining to the club they were both in, and Chloe wouldn't even acknowledge her.

"Chloe," Aubrey snapped her fingers in her friend's face, not getting a reaction, to her dismay. "Chloe. CHLOE!"

Chloe jumped, looking around her with panic stricken eyes, trying to find where the fire was. After a few seconds of wildly swiveling her head with a hand covering her racing heart, her eyes locked on Aubrey's which were filled with barely contained rage.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asked, her heart slowing. She settled back in the swivel chair she was sitting in and looked worriedly at Aubrey, who was shaking. Probably from that previously mentioned rage.

"You!" Aubrey shrilled, standing from where she sat on Chloe's bed. They currently shared an off campus apartment and they each had their own room (Aubrey couldn't stand living one more year in a filthy dorm) and were both sitting/standing in Chloe's. The door was open and the television was playing on mute in the living room.

"_Me_?" Chloe asked, sitting straight in her seat. "What'd _I_ do?"

"You spaced out again!" Aubrey seethed, clenching both her fists at her sides. She turned around and held the bridge of her nose, breathing, trying to calm down. "Right in the middle of our conversation, too." she whirled around, noticeably calmer, but still visibly angry. "I bet you didn't hear a single thing I said."

"That's not true!" Chloe said, standing up from her chair in defense of herself. "I heard… some of it."

Her defiant demeanor immediately faltered and she looked away embarrassedly. Aubrey sighed and shook her head, placing her hands on her hips.

"It was her, again, wasn't it?"

"'Her'?" Chloe asked, playing dumb. She and Aubrey had had a talk about Chloe's mystery girl and how she should just forget about her, but Chloe really couldn't. She was obsessed.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes and gave Chloe the "I know you know what I'm talking about" look, and Chloe plopped back down in her chair, causing it to roll across the room.

"Okay, yeah, it was her." she admitted in a mumble, her head lolled back and resting on the back of the chair. "But I can't help it! I just- you should've seen her, Aubs! She was wonderful!" Chloe sighed. "I still can't believe she just left…"

"Chloe," Aubrey said, her naturally stern and dominating nature coming out as she sensed a relapse in her friend's confidence. "We've been over this. Just because you were wrong _one_ time doesn't mean you never were right about anything."

"I know!" Chloe shouted, exasperated. She threw her hands up in the air and just stared at them as she splayed her fingers out. "I just…" she sighed and dropped her arms over her eyes, defeated.

Aubrey stood next to the bed and stared blankly at Chloe for a few minutes before deciding on something. Nodding to herself, she grabbed her roommate's shoes from the floor by the foot of her bed and dropped them on Chloe's lap. Chloe peeked out from under her arms and stared at her questioningly, but all Aubrey did was leave the room, obviously expecting her friend to follow.

Chloe rolled her eyes and put her shoes on, standing up when she was finished. She grabbed her phone and her purse and followed Aubrey out of the room, finding her standing expectantly at the door with Chloe's car keys in hand.

"Where are we going?" Chloe asked, grabbing her keys from Aubrey as she passed her, turning towards her to watch as she closed the door and locked it behind them.

"We're going to that tattoo parlor. The one where you saw that girl."

"Why are we going there?" Chloe's eyes widened in disbelief as Aubrey strode purposefully past her as if she hadn't said anything. "Aubrey!"

Aubrey stopped and whirled around, her hands on her hips and her entire being oozing command. Chloe backed away a bit, scared.

"We are going to find her."

"Aubrey, I think I'm ready to go home, now." Chloe said, sitting still in the driver's seat of her car. "I think we should go home."

Chloe reached for the keys to turn the car back on but found they were missing. She looked at Aubrey to see her twirling them around her finger, looking at her pointedly. Chloe banged her head against the steering wheel, causing the horn to sound and startle a few people passing by on the sidewalk.

"We're not leaving until we see that girl even if it takes us all day and all night, and that's that." Aubrey crossed her arms and turned forward in the car, scanning the crowd next to them.

They were parallel parked across the street from the tattoo parlor near a hair salon, no cars in front or behind them. A steady flow of people passed them by on the right and every once in a while a car or two would slowly drive by on the left. This really wasn't the part of town one drove through often.

Chloe groaned and leaned back in her seat, looking at her ceiling before glancing hopelessly out her open window.

"How do you even know we're going to find her, anyway?" she asked, her voice just as hopeless as the slump of her shoulders. "What's the chance that she'd come back the same day we decide to come look for her? She didn't even seem the type to have tattoos, anyway…"

"Chloe?"

Chloe looked over at her friend, who was still looking out the front windshield. Her eyes were darting from face to face, trying to discern who her friend would be attracted to. She didn't seem to be paying Chloe any attention at all.

"Shut up and look. You know I'm always right."

In all the years Chloe had known Aubrey, she never had been once wrong. Due to the girl's intense attitude and her need to be perfect, she would never say anything for certain until she was absolutely one hundred percent sure of it and, as it was, Aubrey _had_ never been wrong.

Chloe shook her head and cast her eyes quickly out the window, deciding that if she didn't see the girl soon she would give up and walk home. Her eyes widened and she did a double take, her gaze snapping right back to the entrance of the tattoo parlor, her posture becoming rigid. Aubrey was right. There was the girl.

Aubrey seemed to notice her friend's complete stillness and followed her gaze. She raised an eyebrow in surprise at what she saw. There, walking out of the shop was a short girl with dark brown hair. She had a few piercings and a new tattoo on her shoulder. She was wearing a tank top, which made the bandage over the new tattoo visible, knee length shorts and sneakers. Really not what Aubrey would expect Chloe to obsess over. The boy next to her with a bandage of his own on his arm seemed more appealing, but really, that was her own preference.

"Is that her?" she asked, looking at her friend. Her eyes widened in concern when she saw that Chloe was tearing up. She looked back at the pair that had been her friend's focus for the last three months, the girl seemed to be picking on the boy and the boy pulled her into a headlock which the girl instantly got out of by tickling him, though his arm remained over her shoulders, and instantly her heart kindled with hatred. Aubrey did not approve. "Chloe?"

"I think it's time to go home, Aubs." Chloe said, her voice neutral.

Aubrey stared at her for just a second before digging the car keys out of her purse where she dropped them and handing them to her best friend. With a mumbled "Thanks," Chloe started the car and they left.

Chloe did all she could to forget after that. She stayed in her room, moping for a week before deciding she was better than that. She moved on and for over a year, the most she thought about the girl was when she glanced at the ladybug on her wrist.

Her life was normal, but she never had that feeling again. That chance meeting where you just know the person you're seeing in front of you will be important. She was fine with that. She wasn't sure she could handle that disappointment again.

Her normal, boring life took a wild turn one day, though, that threw the entire thing out of whack. It was at the beginning of summer vacation and she was staying with her aunt on short notice. Originally she had planned on going with Aubrey to her home in Hawaii, but her sister went into early labor and Aubrey had to be there a week earlier than planned. Chloe was open to the idea of going with her early, but Aubrey's family was the rich, stuck-up, if-you're-not-rich-you're-lower-than-dirt kind of family, so they refused every attempt Aubrey made at convincing them to let her come.

She was with her aunt two days before her house exploded. Luckily, she had taken her aunt out to eat to thank her for letting her stay on such short notice so they weren't harmed. Also luckily, Chloe hadn't unpacked all her stuff from the car so she still had about half of her luggage left over.

Initially, they didn't have anywhere to stay since the entire building burnt down to the ground, but as soon as one of Chloe's aunt's coworkers heard about the tragedy she immediately invited them to stay. Chloe's aunt, Bernice, declined the offer at first, but with some persuading (the house is big and it'd be cheaper than a hotel) she was forced to agree.

"How long have you known this person, Aunt Bernie?" Chloe asked as she drove them to their new (temporary) home.

"Long enough, dear."

"And you're sure you can trust them?"

"As sure as I am that that 'true Scottish cuisine' we went out for was not worth surviving an explosion."

"Mmm…" Chloe pursed her lips and hummed in disgusted agreement. She had taken her aunt, Bernice (Bernie for short), out to a new restaurant that supposedly served Scottish food 'like they do back home' because she knew her aunt missed the country. (She did, too, just a little bit.) It was disgusting and not worth the money.

"If you say so…" Chloe acquiesced, taking a right turn as per the instructions her phone's GPS gave her.

"And I do," Bernice said, smiling, her voice's lilting only slightly more pronounced than Chloe's own, but still very light. She clapped in joy and looked over at Chloe, her eyes sparkling in amusement. "What a coincidence!"

Chloe snorted and shook her head, her own eyes filled with mirth, her smile wide. They pulled into a driveway just a few minutes later and Chloe couldn't stop looking at it in awe. The house was huge.

"And you say only one person lives here?" Chloe asked in amazement. She got out of the car and shaded her eyes so she could get a better look at the house. It was old, big, and absolutely gorgeous.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Bernice asked, getting out on her side and closing the door softly.

"Aunt Bernie, you have to slam it or else it won't close all the way, I told you yesterday." Chloe didn't move her eyes from the house, but paid attention to make sure she heard her aunt slam the door properly. Her car was in good shape, but it wasn't new. "Didn't you tell me, what?"

"Oh, Joyce doesn't live on her own." Bernice opened up the back door and pulled out two suitcases. They had gone shopping the day before and had gotten her some clothes so she didn't have to borrow from anybody. "She lives with her granddaughter, Beca. She's a dear."

"You say everyone's a dear, Aunt Bernie,"

"Well, it's true. The poor girl works day in and day out to support her grandmother." Bernice sighed dramatically and lolled her head to the side, looking pitifully up at Chloe. "I wish _I_ had someone like that."

"Oh, quit it," Chloe said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed her luggage from the back seat and walked to the front door, turning around to face Bernice before ringing. "You know what would remedy that? A husband."

Bernice swatted her niece on the arm and clucked her tongue.

"Oh, shush. I'm not getting married 'till I'm good and ready, and you know that."

"A girl can try," Chloe turned back around and rang the doorbell with her elbow. She heard the sounds of rapid footsteps coming down the stairs soon afterwards and soon the door was opened by a slightly out of breath old woman.

"Welcome!" the old woman greeted, stepping back from the door to make room for the duo to enter. Chloe couldn't put her finger on it, but something about the woman struck a chord in her. She seemed awfully familiar. "Hello, Bernie, was your trip okay?"

"Yes, dear, it was great. Chloe's phone used its GPS to tell us how to get right here!" Bernice leaned forward and Joyce pulled her into a brief hug. The two women were about fifteen years apart, but they were the best of friends. Chloe smiled softly at the endearing display.

"So this must be the niece, Chloe?" Joyce said after pulling away from Bernice. Chloe smiled and nodded her head vigorously. She had already decided she quite liked the old woman.

"That would be me!"

"Hello, sweetie, I'm Joyce." Joyce was in the middle of putting her hand out to shake while Chloe was setting her bags down when everything was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

Chloe looked up and froze. What she saw before her chilled her straight to the bone. She would have shivered were it not for the fact that she couldn't move. What she saw, or what she _thought_ she saw, was an older, tattooed, pierced version of the girl she'd spent three months of her life obsessing over. Her hair was a little darker than before, and the baby fat around her face had dwindles, making her features sharper than before. It took Chloe's breath away.

Chloe caught herself and looked away before the girl had the chance to notice her staring. It was impossible. This had to be a different person. Like she said all those months ago, the girl didn't seem like the type to get tattoos or piercings. She seemed too serious.

Chloe set down her bags and she and the girl met eyes. The girl stopped, and this time it was _her_ turn to freeze. Her eyes widened slightly in a way that was reminiscent to how the girl had done in her memories, but what happened next clinched it. The girl, wide eyed and gaping, instantly went expressionless and looked away.

That was it. That was exactly what the girl had done before. This was her. Chloe couldn't believe it. Of course, as she was doing a joyful jig in her head, the two older women went on with the introductions.

"And I know _you've_ met my granddaughter, Beca," Joyce said, looking pointedly at Bernice before looking back at the girl who Chloe now knew as Beca. She couldn't stop herself from marveling at the name and scolded herself internally for it. She had to play it cool.

"Of course, Joyce, she's a dear." Bernice said, smiling. "Though I don't believe my niece has."

From then on, it was like a dream. Chloe met the boy that Beca had been with the second time she'd seen her and learned that it was a one-sided thing. She wasn't even sure Beca knew about it, but if she did, she was doing a great job ignoring it. She felt foolish for misunderstanding so horribly and making such a big deal out of everything. She regretted it and couldn't help but wonder how different her life would be if she had stuck it out and talked to her when she'd had the chance.

There were two problems, though. One problem was that Beca was four years younger than herself. She didn't see it as such a big deal herself, but she couldn't help but wonder at the younger girl's views. Other people seemed to be squeamish about that kind of stuff. She didn't dare ask for fear of the girl finding out _why_ she was asking and alienating her for it. She knew how that felt from prior experiences and she definitely didn't want to go through it again.

The only other problem was that Jesse was adamant that Beca was straight. Of course, the boy mistakenly thought that he had a chance with the girl, so Chloe didn't put much stock in his opinion, but she couldn't help but worry.

Chloe had figured out early on that when Beca went expressionless it meant she was blushing (if you were close enough, you could see her cheeks tinge the slightest bit red) and Chloe found it absolutely adorable. She couldn't stop herself from wanting to see it more often so she took every single chance she could get to embarrass the girl. Whether it meant practically tackling the girl in public and being really touchy-feely (of course, that was a boon in and of itself, even if she wouldn't blush), or making loaded comments whenever she could, it didn't matter. She would do anything.

Of course, after their first in-depth conversation they had, Chloe's picture of the girl before her widened into something less shallow than it was. She was no longer just the pretty figure she just _had_ to know anymore. She was a real person that Chloe wanted to be around. She was sure of herself but also the tiniest bit shy, she could be really boring when all she wanted to do was sit at her computer all day but she was also the source of the most fun Chloe'd had in the longest time, and she was an absolute genius. What she could do with music was amazing and she was completely self-taught. She was kind, considerate, a little cold sometimes to other people, but Chloe found that if it was someone she cared for, she would go to the ends of the Earth for them, and she loved it.

Chloe knew the feeling she'd gotten when she'd first laid eyes on Beca Mitchell hadn't been a fluke. She'd been right all along. Beca _was_ going to be a very important person to her and even though she'd only stayed with the girl and her grandmother for less than a month, she could tell she was falling in love.

So you couldn't really blame her for practically ripping that Bumpy guy to shreds in the Hospital when he'd knocked Beca into those rocks and really hurt her. You couldn't blame her for crying when she'd been told about Beca's past after she'd walked in on the girl in the shower and saw the giant scars on her back. You couldn't blame her for being happy when all the signs pointed towards Beca liking her back, at least a little bit.

You couldn't blame her for being elated when she had thought she'd felt Beca's breath on her lips. For thinking that, perhaps Beca was falling in love with her, too, and was finally going to kiss her. For thinking how wonderful that would be. For being confused and the slightest bit hurt when Beca pulled away. For freaking out when Beca ran away.

Chloe was still calming down from nearly crying her tear ducts off after Beca had explained her story about just how she _had_ gotten those scars on her back. It was really a terrible story and Chloe couldn't understand how Beca managed to be so calm about it, even after she had confessed that she was still just the tiniest bit frightened of cars.

Hey, it's alright," Beca said, scooting closer to Chloe on her bed so that their knees touched. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You're just relating to a particularly horrible experience. That's a great thing to be able to do. It makes you a _great_ person, I swear."

Chloe chuckled a little and closed her eyes, sighing contentedly. She found herself wishing that this moment would last forever. Beca was so close to her and she wasn't removing her hand from her face. The only thing that would make this any better would be if Beca kissed her, though she knew that was impossible.

"You know just what to say, don't you?" she asked, grateful for Beca's attempts to cheer her up, though it all seemed just a little bit backwards to her.

Chloe could feel by the way Beca's hand moved in hers and on her cheek that she had shifted her arm, and judging by what she said next, she guessed that the girl had shrugged. She could just picture a shy smile on her face as she spoke and it made her glow at how cute she must've been.

"I try."

Chloe was content to just sit there with her eyes closed for as long as possible, just soaking in the feeling of being so close to someone she cared for so much, but the thought was interrupted when she felt the bed shift. She was about to open her eyes to see what Beca was doing when she felt the tiniest hint of breath hit her face. More importantly, it hit her lips.

Chloe's heart immediately started to race and her breath hitched the tiniest bit in excitement, but instead of the kiss she was expecting, there was instant emptiness. She opened her eyes and blinked confusedly. Beca had backed away so fast that she'd nearly fallen off the bed.

"Beca?" Chloe asked. She was hurt. Had Chloe been wrong? Had Beca not actually meant to kiss her? Had Chloe been the one leaning in and not the smaller girl? "Is everything okay?"

Judging by the look of sheer terror on Beca's face, Chloe would have guessed not, but the smaller girl assured her otherwise, though in a stuttering, non- assuring manner.

"J-just peachy!" she said. The girl was blushing so hard that the red on her face was easily visible from where Chloe was sitting. Chloe started to freak out internally, her mind going into hyper drive and overanalyzing everything Beca said and did and what she came up with was not an embarrassed terrified Beca, but an absolutely furious one.

Chloe was about to get up and try to placate the obviously raving mad girl, but was halted by the frantic raising of a hand motioning for her to stop.

"You know what? I think I have something to do. I-I should leave."

And with that said, Beca, in a clear display of terrified rage, booked it outa there as fast as she could, appearing not to care one bit about the injuries on her legs.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Chloe was hyperventilating. She couldn't let this happen again. She couldn't let Beca get away a third time. It was too much.

She scrambled to get off the bed, getting tangled up in the sheets on her way, and fell off, landing on her back with and "Oof,". She threw the sheets off her legs and quickly got to her feet, racing after Beca. She didn't know where she'd gone, but she wouldn't stop looking until she found her and apologized for whatever had happened.

**A/R: So? How'd you like it? I felt it was a tad stilted at the beginning, but I really can't figure out how to fix it! Please tell me if you have any ideas!**

**Well, I'll get right on the next chapter after I finish watching these cartoons and eating my Oreo's. What? I like Oreo's! And cartoons are dah bomba. I swear. They're the most perfect form of media. I'm going to be an animator one day, did you know? It'll be like a dream... *dazes off with a dreamy expression on my face***

**GETTING BACK TO BUSINESS. If you have anything to suggest, leave a review! I'll take all suggestions of what you want to see, any critiques (as long as they're constructive) or what have you into consideration. Tell me what you want to see, what I'm doing right, what you want to see more or less of! Anything I did wrong? I read EVERY review, and reply to any that I can via PM!**

**Well, see you guys next chapter!**

**-Peace, G.C.**

**P.S.**

**I noticed; nothing new really happens in this chapter, does it? Is this what they call a... DUNDUN, DUUUNNN, FILLER CHAPTER!? I have no idea.**


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